A  fiijftf  tv  fi*?* fVF^fiitf1* w& 

ARNOLD  FREDIRICKS 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 


He  was  watching,  not  only  Ruth,  but  those  about  her 


BY 

ARNOLD  FREDERICKS 


AUTHOR  OF 

THE  IVORY  SNUFF  BOX,  ETC. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE  BY 

WILL  FOSTER 


NEW   YORK 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY 
W.  J.  WATT  &  COMPANY 


PS 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 


PART  I 

CHAPTER  I 

RUTH  MORTON  finished  her  cup  of  coffee, 
brushed  a  microscopic  crumb  from  her  em 
broidered   silk   kimono,   pushed   back  her 
loosely  arranged  brown  hair,  and  resumed  the  task 
of  opening  her  mail. 

It  was  in  truth  a  task,  and  one  that  consumed  an 
inordinate  amount  of  her  valuable  time.  And  her 
time  was  extremely  valuable.  Computed  upon  the 
basis  of  her  weekly  salary  of  one  thousand  dollars, 
it  figured  out  just  $142.85  per  day,  or  very  nearly 
$6  per  hour,  or  10  cents  per  minute,  for  each  min 
ute  and  hour  of  the  twenty- four.  As  a  motion  pic 
ture  star,  she  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  |hat 
she  was  paid  a  slightly  larger  salary  than  had  been, 


2135584   * 


2  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

until  recently,  received  by  the  President  of  the 
United  States. 

The  opening  of  the  huge  batch  of  letters  that 
greeted  her  daily  across  her  dainty  breakfast  table 
was  very  much  of  a  duty.  It  was  not  that  she  felt 
any  keen  interest  in  the  numberless  notes  from  ad 
mirers,  both  male  and  female,  from  Portland,  Me., 
to  Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  to  say  nothing  of  South  Bend, 
Opeloosa  and  Kicking  Horse  between.  These  might 
readily  have  been  consigned  to  the  depths  of  the 
wastebasket  unopened,  unread.  But  there  was  al 
ways  the  chance  that,  intermingled  with  this  mass 
of  adulation,  there  might  be  a  real  letter,  from  a 
real  friend,  or  a  business  communication  of  im 
portance  from  some  picture  company  possibly,  pre 
pared  to  offer  her  two  thousand  dollars  per  week, 
instead  of  one  thousand,  at  the  expiration  of  her 
present  contract.  So  the  mail  had  to  be  carefully 
opened,  at  least,  even  if  the  bulk  of  it  was  tossed 
aside  unread. 

Her  mother  usually  assisted  her  in  this  daily  task, 
but  to-day  Mrs.  Morton,  oppressed  by  a  slight  at 
tack  of  indigestion,  slept  late,  and  Ruth  proceeded 
with  the  operation  alone. 

She  was  a  singularly  attractive  girl,  combining  a 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  3 

wholesome  and  quite  unassumed  innocence  with  a 
certain  measure  of  sophistication,  gained  by  daily 
contact  with  the  free  and  easy  life  of  the  studios. 
Her  brown  eyes  were  large  and  wondering,  as 
though  she  still  found  it  difficult  to  realize  that 
within  four  years  she  had  stepped  from  comparative 
poverty  to  the  possession  of  an  income  which  a 
duke  or  a  prince  might  readily  have  envied.  Her 
features,  pleasing,  regular,  somewhat  large,  gave  to 
her  that  particular  type  of  beauty  which  lends  itself 
best  to  the  eccentricities  of  the  camera.  Her  figure, 
graceful,  well  modeled,  with  the  soft  roundness  of 
youth,  enabled  her  to  wear  with  becoming  grace 
almost  any  costume,  from  the  simple  frock  of  the 
school  girl  to  the  costly  gowns  of  the  woman  of 
fashion.  Add  to  this  a  keen  intelligence  and  a 
delightful  vivacity  of  manner,  and  the  reason  for 
Ruth  Morton's  popularity  among  motion  picture 
"fans"  from  coast  to  coast  was  at  once  apparent. 

She  sat  in  the  handsomely  appointed  dining-room 
of  the  apartment  on  Fifty-seventh  Street  which  she 
and  her  mother  had  occupied  for  the  past  two  years. 
The  room,  paneled  in  dull  ivory,  provided  a  perfect 
setting  for  the  girl's  unusual  beauty.  In  her  kimono 
of  Nile  green  and  gold,  she  presented  a  figure  of 


4  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

such  compelling  charm  that  Nora,  her  maid,  as  she 
removed  the  empty  coffee-cup,  sighed  to  herself,  if 
not  with  envy,  at  least  with  regret,  that  the  good 
God  had  not  made  her  along  lines  that  would 
insure  an  income  of  over  fifty  thousand  dollars  a 
year. 

Ruth  sliced  open  half  a  dozen  more  letters  with 
aer  ivory  paper  knife  and  prepared  to  drop  them  into 
the  waste  basket.  One  was  from  a  manufacturer 
of  cold  cream,  soliciting  a  testimonial.  Two  others 
were  from  ungrammatical  school  girls,  asking  her 
how  they  should  proceed,  in  order  to  become  motion 
picture  stars.  Another  was  an  advertisement  of  a 
new  automobile.  The  fifth  requested  an  auto 
graphed  picture  of  herself.  She  swept  the  five  over 
the  edge  of  the  table  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  How 
stupid  of  all  these  people,  she  thought,  to  take  up 
their  time,  and  her  own,  so  uselessly. 

The  sixth  letter,  from  its  external  appearance, 
might  readily  have  been  of  no  greater  interest  than 
the  other  five,  and  yet,  something  intangible  about  it 
caused  her  to  pause  for  a  moment  before  inserting 
the  point  of  the  knife  beneath  the  flap  of  the  en 
velope.  It  was  a  large  envelope,  square,  formal- 
looking.  The  address  upon  it  was  typewritten. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  5 

Unlike  the  majority  of  the  other  letters,  forwarded 
from  the  studio,  it  bore  the  street  and  number  of 
the  apartment  house  in  which  she  lived.  The  en 
velope  was  postmarked  New  York,  and  was  sealed 
with  a  splotch  of  black  sealing  wax,  which,  however, 
contained  the  imprint  of  no  monogram  or  seal,  but 
was  crossed  both  vertically  and  horizontally  by  a 
series  of  fine  parallel  lines,  dividing  its  surface  into 
minute  squares. 

Ruth  observed  these  several  peculiarities  of  the 
letter  she  was  about  to  open,  with  growing  interest. 
The  usual  run  of  her  correspondence  was  so  dull 
and  uninteresting  that  anything  out  of  the  ordinary 
was  apt  to  attract  her  attention.  Slipping  the  ivory 
blade  of  the  paper  knife  quickly  beneath  the  flap  of 
the  envelope,  she  cut  it  open. 

The  letter  within,  written  on  the  same  heavy 
paper  as  that  composing  the  envelope,  contained  but 
three  typewritten  lines.    It  was  not  these,  however, 
that  instantly  attracted   Ruth's  attention,   but  the 
;  signature  appended  to  them.    This  signature  did  not 
1  consist  of  a  name,  but  of  an  astonishing  seal,  im 
printed  upon  a  bit  of  the  same  black  sealing  wax 
with  which  the  envelope  had  been  fastened.     And 
the  device,  as  Ruth  bent  over  it  to  make  out  its  clear- 


6  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

cut  but  rather  fine  lines,  filled  her  with  a  sudden  and 
overwhelming  dismay. 

It  was  a  grinning  death's  head,  about  half  an  inch 
in  width,  with  eye-sockets  staring  vacantly,  and 
grisly  mouth  gaping  in  a  wide  and  horrible  smile/ 
made  the  more  horrible  by  the  two  rows  of  protrud 
ing  teeth.  The  girl  almost  dropped  the  letter,  as  full 
realization  of  the  significance  of  the  design  swept 
over  her. 

Hastily  she  recovered  herself,  and  with  trembling 
fingers  raised  the  letter  from  her  lap.  The  three 
typewritten  lines  upon  the  sheet  were,  if  anything, 
more  horrifying  than  the  device  beneath  them. 
"Your  beauty  has  made  you  rich  and  famous,"  the 
letter  read.  "Without  it  you  could  do  nothing. 
Within  thirty  days  it  shall  be  destroyed,  and  you 
will  be  hideous." 

For  a  long  time  Ruth  sat  gazing  at  the  words  be 
fore  her.  In  spite  of  their  ghastly  significance  she 
could  with  difficulty  bring  herself  to  believe  that  she 
had  an  enemy  in  the  world  sufficiently  ruthless,  suf-' 
ficiently  envious  of  her  beauty  and  her  success,  to  be 
capable  of  either  threatening  her  in  this  brutal  way, 
or  of  carrying  such  a  threat  into  execution.  So  far 
as  she  knew,  there  was  not  a  single  person  of  all  her 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  7 

acquaintance  who  wished  her  ill.  Her  own  nature 
was  too  sweet,  too  sympathetic,  too  free  from  malice 
and  bitterness,  to  conceive  for  a  moment  that  the 
very  charms  which  had  brought  her  fame,  success, 
might  also  be  the  means  of  bringing  her  envy  and 
hatred  in  like  proportion.  She  cast  about  in  her 
mind  for  some  possible,  some  reasonable  explanation 
of  the  matter,  but  try  as  she  would,  she  was  unable 
to  think  of  anyone  with  whom  she  had  ever  come  in 
contact,  capable  of  threatening  her  in  this  terrible 
way.  She  had  about  decided  that  the  whole  thing 
must  be  some  stupidly  conceived  practical  joke, 
when  she  saw  her  mother  cross  the  hall  and  come 
into  the  room. 

Mrs.  Harriet  Morton  was  a  woman  of  fifty,  hand 
some  and  youthful  in  spite  of  her  gray  hair,  her 
years.  That  she  had  once  been  extremely  good- 
looking  could  have  been  told  at  a  glance;  anyone 
seeing  mother  and  daughter  together  experienced 
no  difficulty  in  determining  the  source  of  Ruth  Mor 
ton's  charms. 

"Well,  dear,"  said  the  older  woman,  with  a  pleas 
ant  smile.  "Haven't  you  finished  your  letters  yet?" 
She  glanced  toward  the  clock  on  the  mantel. 
"You'll  have  to  leave  for  the  studio  in  half  an  hour." 


8  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Ruth  nodded,  gazing  at  her  mother  rather  un 
easily. 

"You'll  have  to  open  the  rest  of  them,  mother," 
she  said,  indicating  the  pile  of  letters.  "I- — I'm 
tired." 

Mrs.  Morton  came  up  to  her  daughter  and  passed 
her  hand  over  the  girl's  glossy  hair. 

"What's  wrong,  Ruth?  You  look  as  though 
something  had  frightened  you."  Then  her  eyes  fell 
upon  the  letter  lying  in  the  girl's  lap,  and  she  paused 
suddenly. 

Ruth  handed  her  mother  the  sheet  of  paper. 

"I — I  just  got  this,"  she  said,  simply. 

Mrs.  Morton  took  the  letter  quickly  from  her 
daughter's  hand  and  proceeded  to  read  it.  A  look 
of  apprehension  crept  into  her  eyes,  but  she  did  her 
best  to  appear  unconcerned. 

"Some  crank,"  she  said,  after  she  had  mastered 
the  sudden  fear  that  swept  over  her.  "I  shouldn't 
pay  any  attention  to  it,  if  I  were  you,  my  dear. 
There  are  a  lot  of  people  in  the  world  that  have 
nothing  better  to  do,  than  play  silly  jokes  like  that." 

"Then  you  don't  think  it  amounts  to  anything?" 
Ruth  asked,  somewhat  relieved. 

"Certainly  not.     Just  a  stupid  plan  to  frighten 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  9 

you.  Pay  no  attention  to  it.  No" — she  folded  the 
letter  as  the  girl  put  out  her  hand — "I'll  take  charge 
of  this.  Now  you'd  better  hurry  and  get  ready. 
The  car  will  be  waiting  for  you  at  nine,  and  Mr. 
Edwards  expects  to  start  that  new  picture  to-day, 
doesn't  he?" 

"Yes."  The  girl  rose.  "It's  a  beautiful  part. 
I'm  the  daughter  of  an  old  music  teacher,  who  dies 
in  Brooklyn,  and  leaves  me  in  poverty.  And  later 
on,  it  turns  out  he  was  the  heir  to  the  throne  of 
Moravia,  and  I'm  a  princess.  Lots  of  adventures, 
and  spies,  and  all  that.  Ralph  Turner  is  the  lover. 
He's  awfully  good-looking,  don't  you  think?" 

Mrs.  Morton  assented  in  rather  a  preoccupied 
way,  as  her  daughter  left  the  room.  She  was  still 
thinking  of  the  brutal  threat  which  the  girl  had  just 
received,  and  of  the  possible  dangers  to  which  she 
might  as  a  result  be  exposed.  Mrs.  Morton  by  no' 
means  felt  the  matter  to  be  a  joke,  in  spite  of  the 
assurances  she  had  given  Ruth.  The  tone  of  the 
letter,  the  evident  care  which  had  been  taken  to  pre 
vent  the  identity  of  the  writer  from  becoming 
known,  filled  her  with  the  gravest  alarm. 

As  she  sat  pondering  the  matter,  Nora  came  into 
the  room,  with  Ruth's  dust  coat  and  parasol  in  her 


io  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

hands.  Mrs.  Morton  beckoned  to  the  girl,  then 
spoke  to  her  in  a  low  voice. 

"Nora,"  she  said,  "Miss  Ruth  received  a  letter 
this  morning,  from  somebody  who  is  envious  of  her 
beauty  and  success.  I  pretended  to  make  light  of 
the  matter,  but  there  may  be  something  back  of  it. 
I  want  you  to  watch  her  carefully  while  you  are 
away  from  the  house.  Be  on  your  guard  every 
moment  of  the  time.  Don't  let  anyone  come  near 
her.  They  might  try  to  throw  acid,  or  something 
of  the  sort.  I  shan't  feel  safe  until  she  is  home 
again." 

The  maid's  face  lit  up  with  a  significant  smile. 
From  her  manner  it  was  clear  that  she  fairly  wor 
shiped  her  young  mistress. 

"I'll  not  let  anyone  do  her  any  harm,  Mrs.  Mor 
ton,"  she  said,  earnestly.  "You  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"And  don't  let  her  know,"  Mrs.  Morton  added 
hastily,  in  a  low  voice,  as  she  saw  Ruth  come  to 
the  door,  "that  I  am  at  all  worried.  She  must  not 
have  a  threat  like  that  on  her  mind." 

The  maid  nodded,  then  turned  toward  the  door 
where  Ruth  stood. 

"Well,  mother,  good-by,"  the  latter  exclaimed 
with  a  laugh.  "You  can  open  all  the  rest  of  the 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  tt 

letters,  and  if  you  come  across  any  more  like  that 
last  one,  please  keep  them.  I  think  I'll  begin  a 
collection." 

Mrs.  Morton  forced  herself  to  join  in  the  girl's 
laughter. 

"There  won't  be  any  more,  dear,"  she  said,  kissing 
the  girl  fondly.  "Don't  bother  your  head  about  such 
things.  They're  not  worth  it.  And  come  home  as 
soon  as  you  get  through." 

"All  right,  mother.  We're  going  to  the  theater 
to-night,  aren't  we  ?  Don't  forget  to  get  the  tickets." 
With  a  smile  she  left  the  room,  and  a  few  moments 
later  Mrs.  Morton  heard  the  rumble  of  the  descend 
ing  elevator. 

She  sat  in  silence  for  a  long  time,  thinking,  a 
great  fear  clutching  at  her  heart.  Her  life,  she  re 
flected,  had  held,  until  recently,  but  little  of  happi 
ness.  The  long,  weary  days  of  poverty,  when  her 
husband,  incapacitated  by  a  paralytic  stroke,  had  seen 
his  savings  slowly  dwindle  away;  the  death  of  her 
,son,  and  then  that  of  Mr.  Morton  himself  passed 
before  her  mental  vision.  Only  Ruth  had  been  left 
to  her,  and  in  the  girl's  happiness  and  success  lay 
Mrs.  Morton's  whole  life  and  being.  Now,  that 
things  had  at  last  taken  a  turn,  and  the  future 


12  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

seemed  clear  and  assured  ahead  of  her,  was  some 
dreadful  tragedy  to  change  all  her  joy  to  sorrow? 
She  turned  to  the  pile  of  still  unopened  letters  with 
a  sigh,  afraid,  almost  to  proceed  with  the  task  of 
reading  them.  Yet,  an  hour  later,  when  they  had 
all  been  disposed  of  without  further  threats  against 
Ruth  having  been  discovered,  she  breathed  more 
easily.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  horrible  letter  was 
merely  a  silly  joke.  She  took  it  out  and  examined 
it  again  with  the  greatest  care,  but  no  clue  to  the 
identity  of  the  writer  rewarded  her  scrutiny.  The 
message  remained  clear,  terrible,  full  of  sinister 
meaning.  "Within  thirty  days  it  shall  be  destroyed, 
and  you  -Mill  be  hideous!"  The  grinning  death's 
head  seal  stared  up  at  her,  fascinatingly  horrible. 
Mrs.  Morton  quickly  placed  the  letter  in  her  bosom. 

Rising,  she  left  the  room,  and  proceeded  to  that 
occupied  by  Ruth.  It  pleased  her,  notwithstanding 
the  servants,  to  take  care  of  it  herself.  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  was  passionately  devoted  to  her  beautiful  daugh 
ter.  In  her,  the  sun  rose  and  set. 

She  glanced  about  the  daintily  furnished  room 
with  a  smile.  The  appointments  were  simple,  al 
most  girlish,  in  spite  of  their  owner's  large  salary. 
Mrs.  Morton  began  to  set  the  room  to  rights. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  13 

She  had  finished  making  the  bed,  and  had  gone 
over  to  the  dressing  table  to  arrange  the  articles 
upon  it,  when  a  square  of  white  upon  the  floor  at 
tracted  her  attention. 

It  lay  upon  the  rug  in  front  of  the  dressing  table, 
and  appeared  to  be  a  letter  of  some  sort. 

Supposing  it  to  be  something  that  the  girl  had 
dropped  in  the  hurry  of  leaving,  Mrs.  Morton 
stooped  and  picked  it  up.  Then  a  queer  feeling  of 
dismay  came  over  her.  The  large  square  white  en 
velope,  the  typewritten  address,  bore  a  singular  and 
disquieting  resemblance  to  the  one  in  which  the 
threatening  letter  had  been  received  so  short  a  time 
before. 

With  trembling  hands,  Mrs.  Morton  tore  the 
envelope  open  and  removed  the  folded  sheet  of 
paper  within.  When  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  contents 
of  the  latter,  she  shuddered,  and  stood  white  with 
fear. 

There  was  a  message  in  typewritten  characters 
upon  the  sheet,  and  Mrs.  Morton  read  it  with  a 
groan  of  despair. 

"Only  twenty-nine  days  more!"  the  message  said. 
"We  shall  not  fail."  Below  the  words  grinned  the 
frightful  death's  head  seal. 


CHAPTER  II 

MRS.  HARRIET  MORTON  was  a  coura 
geous   woman,   but   when   she   read   the 
second  threat  against  her  daughter,  she 
was  filled  with  instant  indignation  and  horror.   The 
thing  was  so  appallingly  mysterious,  so  utterly  with 
out  reasonable  explanation. 

Ruth  had  left  the  room  but  a  few  moments  before. 
Certainly  the  letter  was  not  upon  the  floor  then. 
The  maid,  Nora,  had  gone  with  her.  That  re 
moved  her  from  any  suspicion,  even  had  such  a 
thought  been  reasonable  or  possible,  and  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  felt  it  was  not.  The  only  other  person  in  the 
apartment  was  Mary,  their  old  cook,  a  negro  from 
the  south,  who  had  been  a  faithful  and  patient 
member  of  the  Morton  household  for  over  ten  years. 
That  she  could  have  had  a  hand  in  placing  this  mys 
terious  message  in  Ruth's  bedroom  seemed  incredi 
ble,  not  to  be  entertained  for  a  moment.  And  yet, 
there  was  the  message,  appallingly  simple,  direct, 

14 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  15 

threatening.  "Only  twenty-nine  days  more!"  Mrs. 
Morton  shuddered. 

She  glanced  about  the  room.  How  had  the 
letter  come  there?  Certainly  not  by  means  of  the 
door.  Yet  it  seemed  equally  out  of  the  question  that 
it  could  have  been  brought  in  through  one  of  the 
windows. 

There  were  two  in  the  room,  one  facing  to 
the  front,  and  opening  upon  a  court,  the  other 
in  the  rear,  overlooking  the  yards  of  the  houses 
on  the  next  street.  She  went  to  the  front  win 
dow,  which  was  raised  only  a  few  inches,  and  gazed 
out. 

Below  her  stretched  the  wide  court,  flanked  on  one 
hand  by  the  side  of  the  apartment  building,  on  the 
other  by  the  blank  wall  of  an  adjoining  house.  The 
latter  was  some  ten  feet  from  where  she  stood,  and 
there  were  no  windows  in  it!  She  turned  to  the 
window  at  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

Here  a  fire  escape  led  down  to  an  alley  at  the  rear 
of  the  building.  Could  it  have  been  in  this  way  that 
the  letter  had  been  delivered  ?  The  thing  seemed  im 
possible.  Not  only  was  the  window  closed,  but  she 
knew  that  the  ladders  did  not  reach  all  the  way  to 
the  ground,  the  last  section  being  pulled  up,  to  be 


16  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

dropped  only  in  case  of  fire.  With  a  mystified  look 
she  returned  to  the  center  of  the  room. 

The  letter  grinned  at  her  from  the  dresser,  on 
which  she  had  left  it.  Ruth  must  never  hear  of  the 
matter,  she  knew.  Taking  it  up,  she  placed  it  in 
the  bosom  of  her  dress  along  with  the  one  which 
had  arrived  earlier  in  the  day.  Then  she  sat  down 
to  decide  what  she  had  best  do  next. 

To  trifle  with  so  dangerous  a  situation  was  no 
longer  to  be  thought  of.  One  message,  the  first, 
might  have  been  a  foolish  joke.  The  second 
proved  that  the  danger  threatening  her  daughter  was 
real,  imminent. 

At  first  she  thought  of  placing  the  matter  in  the 
hands  of  the  postal  authorities,  but  would  they,  she 
wondered,  concern  themselves  with  threats  delivered 
in  other  ways  than  by  mail?  This  second  message 
had  not  come  through  any  such  channels.  In  des 
peration  she  put  on  her  hat,  placed  the  two  letters  in 
her  handbag  and  set  out  to  seek  the  advice  of  one  of 
her  oldest  and  best  friends. 

Her  purpose  took  her  to  a  private  banking  house 
in  Broad  Street,  upon  the  wide  entrance  doors  of 
which  was  inscribed  the  name  John  Stapleton  &  Co. 
She  asked  to  see  Mr.  Stapleton. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  17 

John  Stapleton  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  influence 
in  the  financial  world,  and  Mrs.  Morton's  husband 
had  at  one  time  been  one  of  his  most  trusted  em 
ployees.  Now  that  Ruth  had  become  to  some  extent 
a  capitalist,  it  was  to  Mr.  Stapleton  that  the  care  of 
her  savings  had  been  entrusted.  Mrs.  Morton  felt 
the  utmost  confidence  in  both  his  sincerity  and  his 
judgment. 

Mr.  Stapleton  received  her  almost  at  once,  in 
his  simply  yet  richly  furnished  private  office,  and 
rising  from  his  huge  flat-topped  rosewood  desk, 
welcomed  her  warmly,  and  asked  what  he  could  do 
for  her. 

Mrs.  Morton  felt  confused.  Her  mission  seemed, 
after  all,  a  strange  one  with  which  to  come  to  a 
leader  of  finance. 

"I — I  am  in  great  trouble,  Mr.  Stapleton,"  she 
began. 

"Yes?"  He  took  her  hand  in  his  and  led  her  to 
a  chair.  "Tell  me  all  about  it." 

Mrs.  Morton  explained  the  circumstances  sur 
rounding  the  receiving  of  the  two  letters  in  detail, 
and  then  handed  the  documents  to  Mr.  Stapleton. 

"Do  you  think  I  had  better  place  the  matter  in 
the  hands  of  the  postal  authorities?''  she  said. 


i8  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Mr.  Stapleton  examined  the  two  letters  carefully 
then  he  shook  his  head. 

"No.  At  least  not  at  present.  It  seems  to  me  that 
your  daughter  may  be  in  grave  danger,  and  under 
those  circumstances,  I  think  your  wisest  course 
would  be  to  employ  a  private  detective,  an  investiga 
tor  of  matters  of  this  character,  not  only  to  ferret 
out  those  who  are  responsible  for  these  threats,  but 
to  take  steps  to  protect  your  daughter  from  harm." 

"You  think,  then,  that  she  is  really  in  danger?" 
Mrs.  Morton  gasped. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  alarm  you,  but  I  very  much 
fear  that  she  is." 

"But  I  don't  know  any  private  detectives,"  Mrs. 
Morton  began. 

Stapleton  looked  up  from  the  letter. 

"When  I  spoke,"  he  said,  "I  had  a  certain  man  in 
mind.  He  is  not  a  detective,  in  the  usual  sense  of 
the  word.  You  can  find  plenty  of  those,  of  course, 
but,  while  they  are  useful  enough  in  the  detection  of 
criminals  of  the  ordinary  sort,  they  would  probably 
have  very  little  success  in  an  affair  such  as  this.  The 
man  I  had  in  mind  is  a  brilliant  criminal  inves 
tigator,  one  whose  services  I  have  more  than  once 
been  obliged  to  make  use  of  in  matters  of  a  personal 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  19 

nature.  Some  two  years  ago,  for  instance,  my 
child  was  kidnapped,  in  Paris,  and  held  for  ransom. 
The  entire  police  force  of  the  French  capital  seemed 
powerless  to  discover  his  whereabouts.  At  last  I 
called  in  Richard  Duvall,  and  within  a  few  days  my 
boy  was  returned  to  me,  and  the  criminals  who  had 
abducted  him  placed  under  arrest.  It  was  a  mar 
vellous,  a  brilliant  piece  of  work.  I  am  not  likely  to 
forget  very  soon  the  mystery  of  the  changing 
lights."  He  paused,  and  Mrs.  Morton  spoke  up 
eagerly. 

"Give  me  Mr.  Duvall's  address/'  she  said,  "and 
I  will  see  him  at  once." 

"That,"  Mr.  Stapleton  smiled,  "is,  of  course,  the 
great  difficulty.  Duvall,  who  is  married,  lives  with 
his  wife  on  their  farm  near  Washington.  They 
both  have  plenty  of  money,  and  he  has  practically 
retired  from  professional  work." 

"Then  of  what  use  is  it  to  suggest  his  name?" 
asked  Mrs.  Morton,  quickly. 

"He  had  already  retired,"  Stapleton  rejoined,  "at 
the  time  of  my  boy's  kidnapping,  but  I  prevailed  on 
him  to  take  up  the  case.  His  retirement  merely 
means  that  he  is  not  in  the  active  practice  of  his 
profession.  But  exceptional  cases,  cases  which  by 


20  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

reason  of  their  novelty  interest  him,  he  may  be  per 
suaded  to  undertake.  I  fancy  this  matter  of  your 
daughter's  would  prove  attractive  to  him.  It  is 
unusual — bizarre.  I  strongly  advise  you  to  see 
him." 

"To  do  that,  I  must  go  to  Washington?" 

"Yes.  I  will  give  you  a  letter  which  will  insure 
you  an  interview,  and,  I  hope,  enlist  his  services  in 
your  behalf."  He  pressed  a  button  on  his  desk, 
summoning  a  stenographer.  "I  sincerely  hope  that 
you  will  be  successful." 

Mrs.  Morton  sat  in  silence  while  the  letter  of  in 
troduction  to  Richard  Duvall  was  being  written. 
Then  she  rose  to  go. 

"I  will  leave  for  Washington  this  afternoon," 
she  announced.  "I  feel  that  there  is  no  time  to 
waste." 

"You  are  quite  right.  And  be  sure  to  tell  Mr. 
Duvall  that  you  are  a  close  personal  friend  of  mine, 
and  that  anything  he  can  do  for  you  I  shall  appre 
ciate  to  the  utmost." 

Mrs.  Morton  went  back  to  the  apartment,  and 
made  her  preparations  to  start.  She  determined  to 
take  a  train  leaving  at  half  past  three,  and  as  Ruth 
would  not  return  from  the  studio  until  later,  she 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  21 

called  her  up  on  the  telephone,  and  told  her  of  her 
sudden  determination. 

"It  is  a  matter  of  business,  dear,"  she  explained. 
"I  will  be  back  to-morrow.  Good-by."  The  girl's 
cheerful  voice  reassured  her.  At  least  nothing  had 
happened  up  to  now,  to  give  cause  for  alarm. 

It  was  only  when  Mrs.  Morton  was  about  to  leave 
for  the  train  that  her  nerves  were  once  more  sub 
jected  to  a  severe  shock. 

The  telephone  bell  rang,  and  she  went  to  answer 
it,  thinking  that  Ruth  might  for  some  reason  have 
called  her  up. 

Over  the  wire  came  a  thin,  queer  voice. 

"Beauty  is  only  skin  deep,"  it  said.  "A  breath 
may  destroy  it."  After  that,  silence. 

Mrs.  Morton  made  a  frantic  effort  to  learn  the 
number  of  the  station  from  which  she  had  been 
called,  but  without  success.  In  a  rather  depressed 
state  of  mind,  she  made  her  way  to  the  train. 

It  was  half  past  eight  at  night  when  she  arrived 
in  Washington,  and  she  at  once  called  up  Richard 
Duvall  on  the  telephone. 

To  her  disappointment,  she  learned  that  he  was 
out,  and  was  not  expected  back  until  late.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  until  morning.  She  re- 


22  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

tired  to  her  room,  full  of  hope  that  the  following 
day  would  bring  an  end  to  her  fears. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  she  called  again,  and 
this  time  was  more  successful.  Duvall  himself 
answered  the  telephone. 

"I  am  Mrs.  Morton,  from  New  York,"  she  said, 
eagerly.  "I  would  like  to  come  out  and  see  you." 

"What  do  you  wish  to  see  me  about?"  the  detec 
tive  inquired. 

"It  is  a  personal  matter.  I  will  explain  when  I 
arrive.  I  prefer  not  to  do  so  over  the  telephone. 
I  have  a  letter  to  you  from  Mr.  Stapleton." 

"Mr.  John  Stapleton,  the  banker?" 

"Yes." 

"Come,  then,  by  all  means,  at  any  hour  that  suits 
you.  Mr.  Stapleton  is  one  of  my  best  friends." 

Mrs.  Morton  hung  up  the  receiver,  after  assur 
ing  him  that  she  would  start  at  once.  Then  she 
went  out  and  engaging  an  automobile,  set  out  for 
Duvall's  place. 


CHAPTER  III 

RICHARD  DUVALL  and  his  wife,  Grace, 
lingered  rather  later  than  usual  over  their 
breakfast  that  morning. 

It  was  a  warm  and  brilliant  day  in  May,  and  the 
blossoming  beauty  of  the  spring  filled  them  both 
with  a  delightful  sense  of  well-being. 

Duvall,  however,  seemed  a  trifle  restless,  and 
Grace  observed  it. 

"What's  the  matter,  Richard?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  nothing."  Her  husband  picked  up  the  morn 
ing  paper.  "They  are  still  looking  for  the  woman  in 
that  Marsden  case,  I  see,"  he  remarked. 

"Do  you  know,  my  dear,"  Grace  said,  "I  some 
times  think  that  you  made  a  mistake  in  coming  down 
here  to  the  country  to  live.  Your  heart  is  really  in 
»New  York,  and  every  time  there  is  a  murder  case, 
or  a  bank  robbery,  or  a  kidnapping  up  there,  you  are 
restless  as  a  hen  on  a  hot  griddle  until  the  mystery 
is  solved.  Why  don't  you  take  up  your  professional 
work  again?" 

23 


24  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  laid  down  his  paper  and  regarded  his  wife 
with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"Because,  Grace,"  he  said,  "you  especially  asked 
me,  after  that  affair  of  the  missing  suffragette,  to 
finally  give  up  my  detective  work  and  content  my 
self  with  a  quiet  existence  here  on  the  farm.  You 
said,  on  account  of  the  boy,  that  I  ought  not  to  take 
such  risks." 

"Well — suppose  I  did.  You  agreed  with  me, 
didn't  you?" 

"Yes — I  guess  so."  Duvall  once  more  picked 
up  the  newspaper.  "But,  naturally,  I  can't  help 
feeling  a  certain  interest  in  any  striking  and  novel 
case  that  I  may  read  about." 

"And  I  haven't  a  doubt,"  laughed  Grace,  "that 
you  wish  that  you  were  back  in  harness  again  a 
iozen  times  a  day.  Come  now — 'fess  up.  Don't  you?" 

"Sometimes,"  granted  her  husband,  with  a  smile. 
"You  know  I  loved  my  work.  It  always  seemed  to 
take  me  out  of  the  dull  routine  of  existence,  and  give 
me  a  new  feeling  of  interest.  I  shouldn't  mind  if  I 
had  a  novel  and  interesting  case  to  work  on  right 
now." 

"Would  you  take  one,  if  it  were  offered  to  you," 
asked  Grace  quickly. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  25 

"No — I  guess  not.  I  haven't  forgotten  my  prom 
ise." 

"Well — I've  decided  to  release  you  from  that, 
Richard.  I  really  think  you  need  a  little  mental 
exercise  and  diversion.  All  play  and  no  work, 

you  know "  She  began  to  arrange  the  dogwood 

blossoms  she  had  gathered  before  breakfast,  in  a  big 
vase  on  the  table. 

Duvall  laughed. 

"I'm  getting  along  very  well,"  he  said.  "Don't 
forget  I'm  expecting  to  have  that  corner  lot  planted 
in  potatoes  to-day."  He  rose,  and  coming  over  to 
his  wife,  playfully  pinched  her  cheek.  "What's  the 
matter,  dear?"  he  asked.  "Are  you  pining  for  a 
little  trip  to  New  York  yourself?  We  don't  need  a 
murder  mystery  to  make  that  possible,  you  know." 

Grace  shook  her  head.  As  she  did  so,  the  tele 
phone  bell  in  the  hall  began  to  ring.  "That  may  be 
your  murder  mystery  now,"  she  said,  with  a  laugh. 

"More  likely  the  Clarks  asking  us  over  to  dinner 
this  evening,"  he  returned,  as  he  made  his  way  into 
the  hall. 

Grace  continued  to  arrange  her  flowers.  Pres 
ently  Duvall  re-entered  the  room.  There  was  a 
eurious  smile  upon  his  face. 


26  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Well,"  Grace  remarked,  glancing  up.  "Which 
was  it?  The  murder  case,  or  the  Clarks?" 

"Neither.  A  mysterious  woman,  this  time,  saying 
that  she  must  see  me  at  once.  I  told  her  to  come  on 
out." 

"Ah!  This  is  serious,"  his  wife  laughed.  "A 
mysterious  woman !  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  jealous. 
Didn't  she  say  what  she  wanted  with  you?" 

"No.  But  we'll  know  soon  enough.  She'll  be 
here  at  half  past  nine.  Suppose  we  go  and  take  a 
look  at  those  Airedale  pups."  Together  they  crossed 
the  veranda  and  made  their  way  toward  the  barn. 

Richard  Duvall  had  changed  but  little  since  the 
days  when  he  had  served  on  the  staff  of  Monsieur 
Lefevre,  the  Prefect  of  Police  of  Paris,  and  had 
taken  part  in  the  stirring  adventures  of  the  Million 
Francs,  the  Ivory  Snuff  Box  and  the  Changing 
Lights.  The  same  delightful  spirit  of  camaraderie 
existed  between  his  wife,  Grace,  and  himself,  a 
spirit  which  had  enabled  them,  together,  to  solve 
some  of  the  most  exciting  mysteries  in  the  annals  of 
the  French  detective  service.  It  had  been  nearly  two 
years,  now,  since  the  affair  of  the  Mysterious  God 
dess,  the  last  case  in  which  Duvall  had  been  con 
cerned,  and  he  was  beginning  to  feel  that  he  would 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  27 

welcome  with  outstretched  arms  a  chance  to  make 
use  once  more  of  his  exceptional  talents  as  an  inves 
tigator  of  crime.  Hence  he  had  received  Mrs. 
Morton's  telephone  call  with  more  than  ordinary 
interest. 

The  latter  had  told  him  nothing  of  her  reasons 
for  interviewing  him,  contenting  herself  with  the 
bare  statement  that  she  had  a  letter  to  him  from  Mr. 
Stapleton.  This,  however,  had  been  enough  to  set 
Duvall's  nerves  to  tingling  and  to  cause  him  to  con 
clude  that  the  mysterious  woman  who  desired  to 
interview  him  in  such  a  hurry  came  on  no  ordinary 
business.  Hence  he  waited  with  some  impatience 
for  the  arrival  of  half  past  nine. 

A  few  moments  after  the  half  hour,  a  large  auto 
mobile  swept  up  the  drive,  and  Duvall,  with  a  nod 
to  his  wife,  went  back  to  the  house  to  receive  his 
guest.  She  was  waiting  in  the  library  when  he 
entered. 

"I  am  Mrs.  Morton,  of  New  York,"  his  caller 
began,  handing  him  Mr.  Stapleton's  letter. 

Duvall  read  it,  but  it  told  him  little. 

"Mr.  Stapleton  informs  me,"  he  said,  looking  at 
his  visitor,  "that  you  are  in  some  difficulty  or  other, 
and  asks  that,  if  I  can  possibly  do  so,  I  try  to  help 


25  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

you  out  of  it.  Did  he  not  also  say  that  I  have  for 
some  time  past  given  up  the  active  practice  of  my 
profession?" 

Mrs.  Morton  nodded,  then  bent  eagerly  for 
ward. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Duvall.  He  told  me  that.  But  he  also 
said  that,  when  you  heard  the  circumstances,  you 
might  be  persuaded  to  assist  me.  I  am  in  very  deep 
trouble,  and  I  fear  that  there  is  not  a  moment  to  be 

lost" 

"What  is  the  nature  of  your  difficulty,  madam?" 
Duvall  asked. 

"It — it  concerns  my  daughter.  I  am  the  mother 
of  Ruth  Morton."  She  made  this  announcement 
as  though  she  fully  expected  Duvall  to  realize  its 
significance  at  once,  but  the  latter's  face  remained 
quite  blank. 

"Yes?"  he  replied,  vaguely.  "And  who  is  Ruth 
Morton?" 

Mrs.  Morton  looked  at  him  in  pained  surprise. 
The  thought  that  anyone  could  possibly  be  ignorant 
of  her  daughter's  fame  and  success  seemed  unbe 
lievable  to  her.  Was  not  Ruth's  name  a  household 
word  among  moving  picture  "fans"  from  coast  to 
coast?  "Why — Ruth  Morton — the  motion  picture 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  29 

star,"  she  replied.  "Surely  you  must  have  heard  of 
her." 

Duvall  smiled,  but  shook  his  head. 

"I  never  go  to  motion  pictures,"  he  said.  "But 
that  is  of  no  importance.  What  has  happened  to 
your  daughter?" 

"Nothing.  At  least  I  hope  not — yet.  It  is  what 
may  happen  to  her  that  frightens  me  so."  She  took 
the  two  threatening  letters  from  her  handbag  and 
gave  them  to  the  detective.  "These  came  yesterday," 
she  said,  simply. 

Duvall  took  the  letters,  and  proceeded  to  read 
them  with  the  utmost  care.  When  he  looked  up, 
his  eyes  were  sparkling  with  interest. 

"The  first  letter,  I  observe,"  he  said,  "was 
mailed  night  before  last,  at  half-past  six,  at  the 
general  post  office.  How  was  the  other  letter  de 
livered?" 

"I  do  not  know.  I  found  it,  yesterday  forenoon, 
upon  the  floor  in  my  daughter's  bedroom,  an  hour 
or  more  after  she  had  left  the  house.  She  has  not 
seen  it.  I  kept  all  news  of  it  from  her,  as  I  did  not 
wish  her  to  be  frightened." 

"That  was  wise,  of  course,"  Duvall  said.  "But 
how  could  the  letter  possibly  have  been  placed  where 


30  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

you  found  it,  without  your  knowledge?  Who,  be 
side  yourself,  was  in  the  apartment  at  the  time?" 

"No  one,  but  an  old  negro  cook,  who  has  been 
with  me  for  years.  I  am  quite  certain  that  she  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"And  the  maid  of  whom  you  speak?" 

"She  had  left  my  daughter's  room,  and  come  into 
the  dining  room,  where  I  was  sitting,  before  Ruth 
left  the  bedroom.  They  went  out  together.  The 
note  could  not  have  been  in  the  bedroom  then,  or  my 
daughter  would  certainly  have  seen  it.  The  thing 
seems  almost  uncanny." 

Duvall  began  to  stroke  his  chin,  a  habit  with  him 
when  he  was  more  than  usually  perplexed.  Presently 
he  spoke. 

"One  thing  I  have  learned,  Mrs.  Morton,  after 
many  years  spent  in  detective  work.  There  is  no 
circumstance,  however  mystifying  it  may  at  first 
appear,  which  is  not  susceptible  of  some  reasonable 
and  often  very  commonplace  explanation.  You  find 
this  letter  on  the  floor  in  your  daughter's  bedroom. 
It  was  placed  there,  either  by  someone  within  the 
apartment,  or  by  someone  from  without.  Now  you 
tell  me  that  it  could  not  have  been  placed  from 
within.  Then  I  can  only  say  that  someone  must 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  31 

have  entered  the  room,  or  at  least  managed  to  place 
the  letter  in  the  room,  from  outside." 

"That  may  be  true,  Mr.  Duvall,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Morton,  quietly,  "but  when  you  consider  that  our 
apartment  is  on  the  fourth  floor,  that  one  of  the* 
windows  of  the  room  was  closed,  and  the  other  only 
open  a  few  inches,  and  that  the  blank  wall  of  the 
opposite  house  is  at  least  ten  feet  away,  I  fail  to  see 
how  what  you  suggest  is  possible." 

Her  words  filled  Duvall  with  surprise.  If  what 
his  caller  said  was  true,  the  case  might  have  elements 
which  would  make  it  more  than  usually  interesting. 

"Has  your  daughter  any  enemy,  who  might  envy 
her  her  success,  and  wish  to  deprive  her  of  it?"  he 
asked. 

"None,  that  I  know  of.  But  since  these  two  let 
ters  came,  I  feel  convinced  that  someone,  whom,  I 
cannot  imagine,  does  feel  that  way  toward  her,  and 
that  on  account  of  it  she  is  in  the  gravest  danger. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Duvall  ?" 

"I  think  it  highly  probable.  And  what,  Mrs.  Mor-  •• 
ton,  would  you  like  to  have  me  do  in  the  matter  ?" 

"Why — come  to  New  York,  take  up  the  case,  and 
find  out  who  these  wretches  are,  so  that  they  may 
be  prevented  from  doing  my  daughter  any  harm. 


32  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

There  is  no  time  to  lose.  They  may  carry  out  their 
threats  at  any  moment.  You  will  observe  that  in 
the  first  letter  they  said  that  her  beauty  would  be 
destroyed  'within  thirty  days.'  One  of  those  days 
has  already  passed.  To-day  is  the  second.  At  most, 
we  have  but  twenty-eight  days  left  in  which  to  find 
out  who  is  responsible  for  this  outrage.  Investiga 
tion  may  consume  a  great  deal  of  time.  I  hope  that 
you  will  consent  to  come  to  New  York  and  take 
charge  of  the  matter  at  once.  I  am  returning  this 
afternoon,  as  soon  as  I  can  get  a  train.  Can  you  not 
return  with  me?  As  for  the  matter  of  expense,  I 
place  no  limit  upon  it.  There  is  nothing  I  would 
not  sacrifice,  to  save  my  daughter  from  the  fate  they 
have  threatened.  Think  what  it  would  mean,  Mr. 
Duvall.  A  young,  beautiful,  innocent  girl,  scarcely 
more  than  a  child,  to  go  through  life  with  her 
beauty  taken  from  her,  made  hideous  by  some  fiend 
ish  device,  blinded  and  scarred  by  acid,  her  features 
crushed — gashed  by  some  sudden  blow.  Can  you 
imagine  anything  more  terrible?" 

Duvall  thought  for  moment  of  his  own  lovely 
child,  now  almost  three  years  old,  and  shuddered. 
Bank  burglaries,  thefts  of  jewels,  seemed  relatively 
of  small  importance  compared  with  such  a  situation 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  33 

as  this.  His  feelings  of  chivalry  rose.  He  felt  a 
strong  desire  to  help  this  young  girl. 

"Here  is  her  picture,"  Mrs.  Morton  continued, 
taking  a  photograph  from  her  handbag  and  extend 
ing  it  to  Duvall. 

The  latter  gazed  at  the  charming  features  of  the 
young  actress,  and  nodded. 

"She  is  lovely — exquisite,"  he  murmured.  "I 
don't  wonder  you  feel  as  you  do.  I  did  not  intend 
to  take  up  any  detective  work  at  this  time,  but  I  have 
decided  to  assist  you  in  this  matter  in  any  way  that 
I  can." 

"Oh — thank  you,  Mr.  Duvall."  There  were  tears 
in  Mrs.  Morton's  anxious  eyes.  "I  can  never  repay 
you  for  your  kindness — never.  But  if  you  can 
save  Ruth  from  these  scoundrels,  I  will  gladly 
spend " 

"Never  mind  about  that,  Mrs.  Morton,"  Duvall 
observed,  with  a  friendly  smile.  "It  is  scarcely  a 
question  of  money  with  me.  If  I  had  not  felt  a  keen 
interest  in  your  daughter's  welfare,  I  should  not 
have  agreed  to  take  up  the  matter  at  all.  As  it  is, 
you  need  not  worry  about  the  expense.  I  am  going 
to  take  the  case  largely  because  it  has  interested  rne, 
and  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  work  it  out,  not  only  on 


34  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

your  daughter's  account,  but  on  my  own.  You 
know,  to  me,  such  matters  are  of  absorbing  inter 
est,  like  the  solving  of  some  complex  and  baffling 
puzzle." 

"Then  you  will  go  back  to  New  York  with  me  this 
evening?" 

"I  can  hardly  do  that,  Mrs.  Morton.  But  I  can 
agree  to  call  on  you  there  to-morrow.  It  will  take 
me  some  hours  to  arrange  matters  here  so  that  I 
can  leave.  I  do  not  think  you  need  worry  for  a  few 
days  at  least.  If  these  people  had  meant  to  act  at 
once  they  would  not  have  named  the  period  of  thirty 
days  in  their  threats." 

"Very  well."  Mrs.  Morton  rose,  and  held  out 
her  hand.  "I  will  expect  you  to-morrow.  Will  it 
be  in  the  morning?" 

"Very  likely.  In  any  event,  I  will  first  telephone 
to  you."  He  entered  the  address  in  his  note-book. 
"By  the  way,  perhaps  you  had  better  let  me  keep 
that  photograph." 

"Certainly."  Mrs.  Morton  handed  it  to  him,  and 
he  thrust  it  into  his  pocket.  "The  letters  you  al 
ready  have?" 

"Yes." 

"Is  there  anything  else?" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  35 

"Yes.  One  thing.  Do  not  tell  your  daughter  that 
you  have  employed  me  in  this  case.  It — it  might 
alarm  her." 

"Certainly  not.  And  that  leads  me  to  say  that 
you,  on  your  part,  will  of  course  observe  the  utmost 
secrecy.  Even  with  Mrs.  Duvall." 

"That  goes  without  saying,  madam.  My  profes 
sional  secrets  I  share  with  no  one.  Even  between 
my  wife  and  myself  there  is  an  unwritten  law  which 
is  never  broken.  Unless  we  are  working  on  a  case 
together — unless  she  can  be  of  service  to  me,  she 
asks  no  questions.  She  would  not  speak  to  me,  or 
even  recognize  me,  were  we  to  meet,  while  I  am  en 
gaged  in  work  of  this  sort.  You  need  have  no 
fear  on  that  score." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  know  that.  Were  these  people 
to  suspect  that  I  have  placed  the  matter  in  the  hands 
of  a  detective,  they  would  be  instantly  on  their 
guard,  and  all  means  of  tracing  them  might  be  lost." 

"That  is  undoubtedly  true,  and  for  that  reason, 
I  may  appear  in  other  characters  than  my  own,  from 
time  to  time,  disguised  perhaps,  in  such  a  way  that 
even  you  would  not  recognize  me.  Under  those  cir 
cumstances  I  will  suggest  a  password — one  that  will 
not  be  known  to  anyone  else.  Should  occasion  arise 


36  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

in  which  I  desire  to  acquaint  you  with  my  identity, 
without  making  it  known  to  others,  I  will  merely  re 
peat  the  words — twenty-eight  days,  or  twenty-seven 
or  six  or  five,  as  the  case  may  be,  on  that  particular 
day,  and  you  will  know  that  it  is  I,  and  act  accord 
ingly.  Is  that  perfectly  clear?" 

"Perfectly,  Mr.  Duvall." 

"Very  well.  Then  we  will  leave  further  details 
until  to-morrow."  He  shook  hands  with  his  caller, 
escorted  her  to  her  automobile,  then  returned  to  the 
library  and  began  a  careful  study  of  the  two  notes 
which  Mrs.  Morton  had  left  with  him.  Here  Grace 
found  him,  half  an  hour  later. 

"Well,"  she  said,  coming  up  to  him  with  a  smile. 
"Shall  I  begin  to  pack  our  things?" 

Duvall  put  his  arm  about  her. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  said.    "We'll  leave  on  the  sleeper 
to-night.     You  can  get  Mrs.  Preston  to  come  and 
take  charge  of  the  house  while  we  are  gone.    It  may 
be  two  weeks.    That  is,  if  you  want  to  go  along." 
f     "Want  to  go  along?     Why,  Richard,  I'm  just 
'dying  for  a  trip  to  New  York.    I  haven't  been  there 
since  before  Christmas,  as  you  know,  and  I've  got 
to  get  a  spring  outfit.    Of  course  I'm  going."    She 
went  gayly  toward  the  hall  stairs. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  37 

"Then  you  must  be  ready  right  after  lunch,"  he 
called  after  her. 

"But  why  so  soon,  if  we  are  taking  the  sleeper?" 

"Because  we  are  going  up  to  town  this  afternoon 
and  see  a  few  moving  pictures." 

"Moving  pictures?"  Grace  paused  at  the  door, 
an  expression  of  the  utmost  astonishment  upon  her 
face.  "Why,  Dick,  you  never  go  to  moving  pictures. 
You've  always  said  they  didn't  interest  you." 

"We're  going,  just  the  same." 

"What's  come  over  you?"  Grace  asked. 

"Nothing.  I'm  curious  to  see  some  of  them,  that's 
all.  Never  too  old  to  learn,  you  know.  If  I  am  not 
mistaken,  I  saw  a  new  feature  film  advertised  in  the 
newspaper  this  morning."  He  took  a  paper  from 
the  desk  and  glanced  through  it.  "Here  it  is.  Ruth 
Morton,  in  The  Miser's  Daughter.  Have  you  seen 
it?" 

"No.  But  I've  seen  Miss  Morton  often — in  pic 
tures,  I  mean.  She's  a  lovely  creature,  and  a  splen 
did  actress,  too." 

"Then  this  film  ought  to  be  a  good  one,  don't  you 
think?" 

Grace  burst  into  a  rippling  laugh. 

"You're  getting  positively  human,  Richard,"  she 


38  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

exclaimed.  "Here  I've  been  telling  you  for  months 
past  what  a  lot  you've  been  missing,  and  you  only 
made  fun  of  me,  and  now  you  actually  suggest 
going  yourself.  Was  the  lady  who  called  interested 
in  the  motion  picture  business  ?" 

Duvall  laughed,  but  made  no  reply. 

"What's  the  mystery?"  Grace  went  on,  with  an 
amused  smile.  "You  haven't  told  me,  you  know. 
Has  she  lost  her  jewels,  or  only  her  husband?" 

Duvall  raised  his  hand. 

"No  questions,  my  dear.  This  is  a  professional 
matter.  But  I  don't  mind  telling  you  this  much, 
if  I  ever  become  a  motion  picture  'fan/  you'll  have 
her  to  thank  for  it." 

"Really.  Then  I'm  glad  she  came.  I  hate  going 
alone.  And  it  seems  I  shall  also  have  to  thank  her 
for  a  trip  to  New  York.  She  has  my  eternal  grati 
tude.  Now  I'm  going  up  to  pack." 

Duvall  resumed  his  seat,  and  once  more  took  up 
his  examination  of  the  letters  Mrs.  Morton  had  left 
with  him,  but  they  told  him  little.  There  were  the 
usual  individual  peculiarities  in  the  typewritten  char 
acters,  but  that  was  about  all  he  could  discover.  The 
letter  paper,  while  of  excellent  quality,  was  such  as 
might  be  bought  at  any  first-class  stationery  store. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  39 

The  death's  head  seal,  of  course,  was  highly  individ 
ual,  but  to  trace  anyone  by  means  of  it  presented 
almost  insuperable  difficulties.  To  find  the  seal,  one 
must  of  necessity  first  find  its  owner,  and  then  the 
*  chase  would  be  over.  He  replaced  the  letters  in  his 
pocket  book,  and  went  to  his  room  to  make  ready  for 
their  journey. 


CHAPTER  IV 

MRS.  MORTON  returned  to  New  York  that 
afternoon,  greatly  pleased  with  the  results 
of  her  trip.     That  she  had  been  able  to 
enlist  the  services  of  Richard  Duvall  gave  her  a 
sense  of  security.     She  found  Ruth  at  home,  safe 
and  well,  with  no  further  threats  or  warnings  to  dis 
turb  her  peace  of  mind.    The  girl  was  absorbed  in 
her  new  role.    The  picture  promised  to  be  the  most 
successful  of  her  career. 

The  following  morning  Mrs.  Morton  rose  early, 
in  order  to  go  through  the  mail  before  Ruth  had  an 
opportunity  to  do  so.  The  shock  caused  by  the  first 
threatening  letter  had  passed  from  the  girl's  mind. 
The  second  she  knew  nothing  of.  Mrs.  Morton  was 
determined  that  if  any  more  arrived,  she  should  not 
see  those  either. 

Trembling  with  eagerness  she  opened  the  pile  of 
letters,  but  found  nothing.  With  a  sigh  of  relief 
she  turned  away.  Perhaps,  after  all  she  had  ex 
aggerated  the  importance.of  the  matter. 

40 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  41 

Half  an  hour  later,  while  Ruth  was  eating  her 
breakfast,  a  messenger  boy  arrived  with  a  telegram, 
addressed  to  Miss  Ruth  Morton.  The  maid,  seeing 
no  reason  to  do  otherwise,  brought  it  to  the  girl  as 
she  sat  at  the  table.  Mrs.  Morton,  who  had  been  at 
the  rear  of  the  apartment,  hurried  in  as  she  heard 
the  sound  of  the  doorbell,  but  by  the  time  she  had 
reached  the  dining  room,  Ruth  had  already  opened 
and  read  the  message.  She  sat  staring  at  a  bit  of 
yellow  paper,  her  face  pale  and  drawn. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  Mrs.  Morton  cried,  hurrying 
to  her  side. 

Ruth  picked  up  the  telegram  and  handed  it  to  her 
mother. 

"Another  threat,"  she  said,  quietly.  "These  peo 
ple,  whoever  they  are,  seem  to  be  in  deadly  earnest." 

Mrs.  Morton  took  the  telegram  and  hurriedly  read 
it. 

"Even  the  beauty  of  the  rose,"  the  message  said, 
"'cannot  endure  for  twenty-seven  days."  There  was 
no  signature  to  the  telegram. 

A  look  of  the  deepest  apprehension  crept  into 
Mrs.  Morton's  eyes,  but  she  turned  away,  so  that 
Ruth  might  not  realize  her  fears. 

"Pay  no  attention  to  the  matter,  Ruth,"  she  said, 


42  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

in  tones  suddenly  grown  a  trifle  unsteady.     "It  is 
certainly  nothing  more  than  a  stupid  joke." 

"Well,  mother,  of  course  you  may  be  right,  but 
for  my  part,  I  have  a  feeling  that  it  isn't  a  joke  at 
all,  but  a  real  and  very  terrible  threat.  What  is  toj 
prevent  these  people,  whoever  they  are,  from  at 
tacking  me — sending  me  some  infernal  machine  in 
the  disguise  of  a  box  or  package,  which,  as  soon  as 
I  open  it,  might  burn  or  blind  or  otherwise  disfigure 
me  so  that  my  life  would  be  ruined?"  She  rose  and 
glanced  at  herself  in  the  mirror  which  hung  over 
the  mantel.  Already  there  were  deep  circles  of 
anxiety  beneath  her  eyes,  while  the  lines  of  her  face, 
usually  sweet  and  placid,  were  now  those  of  an 
anxious  and  frightened  woman.  The  first  threat 
had  upset  her  far  more  than  her  mother  had  realized. 
The  one  just  received  had  intensified  the  effect  a 
hundredfold. 

"But  you  mustn't  open  any  packages,  my  child. 
Be  very  careful  about  that.  And  Robert  must  not 
stop  the  car,  under  any  circumstances,  in  going  to 
or  from  the  studio.  There,  at  least,  I  believe  you  are 
quite  safe.  I  will  have  a  talk  with  Mr.  Edwards 
to-day,  and  explain  matters  to  him.  And  here  you 
cannot  possibly  be  in  any  danger.  Meanwhile,  in 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  43 

spite  of  what  you  say,  I  still  beg  you  not  to  let  this 
matter  prey  upon  your  mind.  I  cannot,  will  not, 
take  it  seriously."  Poor  Mrs.  Morton,  herself 
thoroughly  frightened,  strove  with  all  her  might  to 
convince  Ruth  that  she  had  nothing  to  fear.  She 
knew  the  girl's  intense,  high-strung  nature,  and 
feared  that  constant  worry,  ceaseless  anxiety,  might 
readily  so  work  upon  her  as  to  reduce  her  to  a  nerv 
ous  wreck  long  before  the  expiration  of  the  thirty 
days  named  in  the  first  threatening  letter.  She 
found  herself  wishing  devoutly  that  Duvall  would 
appear. 

As  she  finished  speaking  there  came  a  ring  at  the 
doorbell,  and  Nora  started  to  answer  it.  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  stopped  her. 

"Nora,"  she  said.  "Listen  to  me.  You  are  not, 
under  any  circumstances,  to  admit  anyone — no  mat 
ter  who  it  is — until  I  have  first  seen  and  talked  with 
them.  Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  ma'am.  I  understand,"  replied  the  girl,  as 
she  went  out  into  the  hall. 

A  moment  later  Mrs.  Morton,  hearing  a  man's 
voice,  hurried  after  her.  Nora,  with  the  door  but 
slightly  open,  was  speaking  with  a  rough-looking 
fellow,  a  workman,  apparently,  who  stood  in  the 


44  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

hallway  outside.  He  was  a  man  of  thirty-five,  with 
a  reddish  moustache,  wearing  working  clothes  and 
a  cap.  This  he  removed,  as  Mrs.  Morton  came  to 
the  door. 

"Is  this  Mrs.  Morton's  apartment?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.  What  do  you  want?"  Mrs.  Morton's  voice 
and  manner  were  far  from  encouraging. 

"There  seems  to  be  a  leak  in  the  plumbing  some 
where  on  this  floor,"  the  man  went  on.  "There's 
trouble  with  the  ceilings  in  the  apartment  below. 
The  superintendent  wants  me  to  go  over  the  connec 
tions  and  sec  that  everything  is  all  right."  He  lifted 
a  canvas  bag  containing  his  tools  from  the  floor, 
and  made  as  though  to  enter.  Mrs.  Morton,  how 
ever,  did  not  open  the  door  any  wider. 
,  "You  can't  come  in  now,"  she  said.  "Come  back 
later — in  an  hour.  My  daughter  is  not  dressed  yet." 
She  seemed  ready  to  close  the  door  entirely,  but  the 
man  again  spoke. 

"Can't  afford  to  wait,  ma'am,"  he  said,  with  a 
significant  smile.  "I  got  every  apartment  in  this 
building  to  go  over  before  the  end  of  the  month, 
and  there  are  only  twenty-seven  days  left."  He 
.emphasized  his  concluding  words,  at  the  same  time 
looking  Mrs.  Morton  squarely  in  the  eye. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  45 

The  words,  the  man's  look,  brought  sudden  recog 
nition.  Mrs.  Morton  drew  open  the  door. 

"Very  well,"  she  said.  "Come  in."  She  realized 
that  the  supposed  workman  was  no  other  than 
Duvall. 

The  latter  went  quietly  toward  the  kitchen 
at  the  rear  of  the  apartment,  and  occupied  him 
self  by  examining  the  connections  of  the  sink. 
He  seemed  to  work  slowly,  unconcernedly,  whist 
ling  softly  to  himself  as  he  moved  about  His 
eyes,  however,  were  very  bright  and  keen,  and 
no  detail  of  the  room,  the  negro  cook  who  oc 
cupied  it,  or  the  buildings  in  the  rear,  escaped  his 
attention. 

Mrs.  Morton  came  back  presently  and  addressed 
him. 

"My  daughter  has  gone,  now,"  she  said.  "You 
may  look  over  the  plumbing  in  the  bathroom  when 
ever  you  are  ready." 

With  a  nod  Duvall  picked  up  his  tools  and  fol 
lowed  her  to  the  front  of  the  apartment.  As  they; 
left  the  kitchen,  Mrs.  Morton  closed  the  door  leading 
from  it  to  the  hall. 

"I  want  you  to  stay  here  for  the  next  hour, 
Sarah,"  she  said,  as  she  left  the  kitchen,  "If  anyone 


46  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

rings,  I  will  answer  the  bell."     A  moment  later 
she  and  Duvall  were  in  the  library. 

The  latter  pretended  to  be  busy  inspecting  the  con 
nections  of  the  hot  water  radiator. 

"Have  you  received  any  more  threats  ?"  he  asked, 
in  a  low  voice,  without  turning  his  head. 

Mrs.  Morton  took  the  telegram  that  Ruth  had  re 
ceived  a  short  time  before,  and  placed  it  in  his  hand. 

"This  came  half  an  hour  ago,"  she  said,  without 
further  comment. 
,     Duvall  read  it,  then  thrust  it  into  his  pocket 

"Did  your  daughter  see  it?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.  It  had  been  delivered  to  her  before  I  could 
prevent  it." 

"That  is  too  bad.    Was  she  much  upset?" 

"Yes.  The  thing  is  beginning  to  get  on  her 
nerves." 

Duvall  rose,  and  placed  his  tools  in  the  kit. 

"Please  take  me  to  your  daughter's  bedroom,"  he 
said.  Mrs.  Morton  led  the  way. 

The  room  was  a  fairly  large  one,  situated  in  an 
ell  at  the  rear  of  the  building.  Of  its  two  windows, 
one,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  overlooked  the 
court  between  the  apartment  building  and  the  house 
next  door.  The  other  faced  toward  the  rear. 


47 

Duvall  placed  his  kit  of  tools  upon  the  floor,  and 
began  an  examination  of  the  room.  After  a  quick 
glance  about,  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Morton. 

"Where  was  the  letter  found — the  one  that  did 
not  come  through  the  mails?" 

"Here."  Mrs.  Morton  indicated  a  spot  on  the 
floor  near  the  small  enameled  dressing  table  that 
stood  against  the  east  wall  of  the  room.  Its  position 
was  midway  between  the  two  windows.  It  was  clear 
that  whoever  had  entered  the  room  might  have  done 
so  through  either  of  the  windows ;  at  least,  the  posi 
tion  in  which  the  dressing  table  stood  afforded  no 
indication  as  to  which  one  it  might  have  been. 

"Which  of  the  two  windows  was  open,  when  you 
found  the  letter  ?"  Duvall  asked. 

Mrs.  Morton  indicated  the  one  facing  the  court. 

"This  one,"  she  said.  "Not  wide  open.  Perhaps 
six  or  eight  inches." 

"The  other  was  not  fastened,  I  suppose?" 

"No.  Ruth  always  keeps  it  raised  during  the 
night,  but  usually  closes  it  while  dressing." 

Duvall  went  to  the  window,  and  opened  it.  It  was 
well  balanced  and  moved  easily. 

"Anyone  coming  up  by  way  of  the  fire  escape 
could,  of  course,  have  raised  the  window  from  the 


48  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

outside,  and  closed  it  again  after  leaving  the  room," 
he  said;  more  to  himself  than  to  Mrs.  Morton.  Then 
he  got  out  on  the  fire  escape  and  made  a  careful 
examination  of  its  surface. 

"When  was  this  ironwork  painted?"  he  asked 
Mrs.  Morton,  through  the  window. 

"About  ten  days  ago." 

"H — m."  Duvall  examined  the  newly  painted 
iron  surface  with  rather  a  blank  expression.  That 
anyone  had  walked  upon  it  since  it  had  received  its 
newly  applied  coat  was,  he  felt,  out  of  the  question. 
The  paint  was  so  new,  so  shiny,  so  yielding  in  its 
fresh  glossiness  that,  even  treading  as  lightly  as  he 
could,  the  marks  of  his  shoes  were  plainly  visible. 
He  leaned  over  and  pressed  the  palm  of  his  hand 
upon  the  grated  iron  floor.  The  pressure  of  his 
hand  was  sufficient  to  dull  the  freshly  painted  sur 
face.  It  seemed  impossible  that  anyone,  even  in  bare 
or  stockinged  feet,  could  have  been  upon  the  fire 
escape,  without  having  left  tell-tale  marks  upon  it. 
He  re-entered  the  room,  and  turned  his  attention  to 
the  other  window. 

Here  the  opportunities  for  entrance  seemed  even 
more  unfavorable.  The  window  was  situated  on  the 
fourth  floor.  There  was  still  another  floor  above, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  49 

with  a  window  similarly  located.  Anyone  might,  of 
course,  have  been  lowered  from  this  window  above, 
to  the  sill  of  the  one  at  which  he  now  stood,  and 
entered  the  room  in  that  way.  He  examined  with 
care  the  white  woodwork  of  the  window  sill,  also** 
freshly  painted.  It  showed  no  marks.  This,  of 
course,  \vas  not  conclusive.  He  determined  to  inves 
tigate  the  occupants  of  the  apartment  on  the  top 
floor. 

The  wall  of  the  brownstone  dwelling  house  next 
door,  which  formed  the  east  side  of  the  narrow 
court,  was  of  brick,  covered  with  ivy.  There  were 
no  windows  in  it  whatever.  Apparently  it  had  once 
adjoined  the  wall  of  a  similar  house,  where  the 
apartment  building  now  stood,  and  when  the  second 
house  had  been  torn  down  to  make  way  for  the  new 
building,  the  partition  wall  had  remained  as  orig 
inally  built,  without  windows. 

Duvall  examined  this  house  next  door  with  a 
great  deal  of  interest.  It  was  four  stories  high, 
with  an  attic,  and  rose  to  almost  the  same  height  as  , 
the  fifth  floor  of  the  apartment  house,  owing,  no 
doubt,  to  its  ceilings  being  somewhat  higher.  In 
the  sloping  roof  of  the  attic  were  three  small  dormer 
windows,  facing  the  court,  but  the  nearest  one  was 


SO  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

perhaps  twenty  feet  from  the  window  of  Ruth's 
room,  in  a  horizontal  direction,  and  some  eight  or 
ten  feet  above  it.  There  was  no  way  in  which  any 
one  could  have  passed  from  the  attic  window  to  that 
of  Ruth's  room,  even  supposing  such  a  person  to 
be  an  expert  climber.  Anyone  lowered  from  this 
window  by  means  of  a  rope  would  merely  have 
found  himself  hanging  against  a  bare  biick  wall, 
twenty  feet  from  the  window  of  the  girl's  room. 
Duvall,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Morton,  made  his 
way  back  to  the  library. 

"You  feel  quite  certain  about  the  cook?"  he  asked. 

"Sarah?"  Mrs.  Morton  smiled.  "What  do  you 
think?  You've  seen  her." 

"She  certainly  appears  to  be  above  suspicion," 
Duvall  replied.  "But  one  can  never  be  sure.  Sup 
pose  you  send  her  out  on  some  errand.  I  should  like 
to  search  her  room." 

Mrs.  Morton  left  him  for  a  few  moments,  and 
presently  the  old  colored  woman  passed  down  the 
'hall  and  left  the  apartment.  Then  Duvall,  accom 
panied  by  Mrs.  Morton,  made  a  thorough  examina 
tion  of  the  woman's  room. 

His  search  disclosed  nothing  of  interest,  nor  was 
a  similar  search  of  the  room  of  Nora,  the  maid, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  51 

productive  of  anything  that  could  in  any  way  con 
nect  her  with  the  mysterious  warnings.  There  re 
mained  only  the  occupants  of  the  fifth  floor  apart 
ment.  Duvall  requested  Mrs.  Morton  to  summon 
the  janitor  of  the  building,  and  explain  to  him,  in  a 
guarded  way,  that  he  wished  to  ask  him  certain 
questions. 

The  janitor  proved  to  be  a  good-natured  fellow, 
who  seemed  extremely  anxious  to  please  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  in  every  possible  way.  In  answer  to  a  question 
from  the  latter,  he  said  that  the  apartment  on  the 
top  floor  was  vacant,  and  had  been  vacant  for  nearly 
two  months. 

The  family  that  had  occupied  it,  he  explained,  had 
moved  away,  and  had  requested  the  management  of 
the  building  to  sublet  it.  This  they  had  not  yet 
succeeded  in  doing. 

"May  I  go  up  and  look  it  over  ?"  Duvall  asked. 

"Sure  you  may,"  the  janitor  replied,  and  he  and 
Duvall  went  to  the  elevator,  leaving  Mrs.  Morton 
waiting  in  the  library. 

The  apartment  on  the  top  floor  had  been  newly 
done  over,  and  smelt  of  fresh  varnish  and  paint.  The 
shiny  floors  had  scarcely  been  walked  upon,  since 
they  had  been  refinished.  The  air  was  close  and 


5«  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

warm,  by  reason  of  the  tightly  closed  windows. 
Duvall  proceeded  at  once  to  the  room  directly  over 
Ruth's  bedroom. 

To  his  disappointment  the  two  windows  were  not 
only  closed  and  fastened,  but  so  tightly  stuck  on  ac 
count  of  the  fresh  paint  that  it  required  the  com 
bined  efforts  of  the  janitor  and  himself  to  open 
them.  That  they  had  been  opened,  since  the  paint 
ing  had  been  done,  some  ten  days  before,  was 
clearly  out  of  the  question.  Duvall  made  up  his 
mind  at  once  that  however  the  person  who  had 
placed  the  mysterious  message  in  Ruth's  room  had 
effected  his  or  her  entrance,  it  had  not  been  by  way 
of  the  apartment  on  the  top  floor. 

Somewhat  disappointed,  he  went  to  the  floor  be 
low,  and  thanking  the  janitor  for  his  kindness,  re 
joined  Mrs.  Morton. 

"What  have  you  discovered,  Mr.  Duvall?"  the 
latter  asked,  eagerly. 

"Nothing,  so  far.  I  confess  the  thing  is  some 
what  of  a  puzzle. 

"Someone  must  have  been  in  Ruth's  room." 

"Not  necessarily." 

"But— why  not?" 

"You  will  remember  that  you  found  the  letter  on 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  53 

/ 

the  floor.  That  would  seem  to  me  to  indicate  rather 
the  opposite.  If  anyone  had  actually  been  in  the 
room,  they  would  have  been  far  more  apt  to  place 
the  message  on  the  dressing  table.  That  it  was  found 
upon  the  floor  indicates  to  my  mind  that  it  was  in 
some  way  inserted — thrown,  perhaps — through  the 
window  from  without."  He  took  the  letter  in  ques 
tion  from  his  pocket,  and  sitting  down,  gazed  in 
tently  at  the  surface  of  the  envelope.  Presently  he 
passed  it  over  to  Mrs.  Morton.  "What  do  you  make 
of  that?"  he  said,  indicating  with  his  finger  a  curious 
row  of  indentations,  extending  in  a  semi-circular 
line  about  midway  of  one  of  the  longer  edges  of  the 
envelope. 

The  marks  were  very  faint,  but  by  turning  the 
letter  about  in  the  light,  Mrs.  Morton  at  last  man 
aged  to  make  them  out.  What  they  were,  how  they 
had  been  placed  there  Duvall  could  not  say.  Yet 
their  presence  indicated  something  of  value,  of  that 
he  felt  sure. 

"I  don't  understand  them  at  all,"  Mrs.  Morton 
replied,  returning  the  letter  to  him.  "It  looks  as 
though  someone  had  held  the  letter  in  a — a  pair  of 
pincers." 

The  suggestion  conveyed  by  her  words  interested 


54  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  greatly.    The  same  thought  had  been  form 
ing  in  his  own  mind. 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  shining  with  interest. 
Why  could  not  such  a  pair  of  pincers  or  forceps, 
have  been  attached  to  a  long  pole,  such  as  a  fishing^ 
rod,  and  the  letter1  in  this  way  pushed  through  the 
window  and  released  by  pulling  on  a  cord  attached 
to  one  of  the  forceps'  handles?  The  thing  was  per 
fectly  practical,  except  for  the  fact  that  there  seemed 
no  place  from  which  such  a  pole  or  rod  might  have 
been  extended.  He  gazed  out  of  the  library  win 
dow,  across  the  court  to  the  row  of  dormer  windows 
in  the  house  opposite.  The  distance  from  the  near 
est  of  them,  to  Ruth's  window  was,  as  he  had  before 
observed,  at  least  twenty  feet  horizontally,  or  some 
twenty-three  feet  on  the  diagonal.  Then  there  was 
the  distance  from  the  window  to  the  dressing  table, 
at  least  eight  feet  more,  to  be  added,  making  neces 
sary  a  rod  over  thirty  feet  long.  And  he  saw  at  a 
glance  that  even  could  a  rod  of  this  length  be  se-, 
cured  and  handled,  the  angle  made  by  a  line  from 
the  dormer  window  through  Ruth's  window  was 
such  that  the  end  of  the  rod  or  pole  would  strike  the 
floor  only  a  few  feet  beyond  the  windowsill,  and 
in  no  possible  way  could  its  further  end  be  elevated 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  55 

sufficiently  to  deposit  the  letter  in  front  of  the 
dressing  table.  The  thing  was  manifestly  out  of  the 
question,  even  had  the  window  of  the  girl's  room 
been  wide  open.  And  Mrs.  Morton  had  assured 
'him  with  the  greatest  positiveness  that  it  had  been 
open,  at  the  time  the  letter  was  found,  but  a  few 
inches.  He  returned  the  letters  to  his  pocket  and 
rose. 

"The  thing  is  astonishing — remarkable,"  he  said 
to  Mrs.  Morton,  who  was  regarding  him  intently. 
"I  confess  that  so  far  I  am  quite  in  the  dark.  I  feel 
sure  that  whoever  entered  the  room,  or  left  the  mes 
sage,  must  have  done  so  by  means  of  the  fire-escape, 
and  yet,  how  was  it  possible,  without  marks  having 
been  left  upon  the  paint?  I  think  I  shall  make 
another  and  even  more  careful  examination,  in  the 
hope  that  some  slight  clues  may  have  escaped  me." 
He  once  more  made  his  way  toward  the  girl's  room, 
followed  by  Mrs.  Morton. 

The  room  was  precisely  as  they  had  left  it.  The 
window  facing  to  the  rear  was  wide  open,  Duvall 
having  omitted  to  close  it  after  his  examination  of 
the  fire  escape.  The  window  fronting  on  the  court 
was  raised  perhaps  six  inches.  And  yet,  to  the  utter 
amazement  of  them  both,  there  lay  on  the  floor  of 


56  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  room,  near  its  center,  a  square  white  envelope, 
addressed  in  typewriting  to  Ruth  Morton. 

Duvall  sprang  forward  and  seized  it  with  an  ex 
clamation  of  astonishment.  It  bore  the  same  seal, 
in  the  same  black  wax,  and  upon  it  was  the  same 
semi-circular  row  of  indentations.  He  tore  the  let 
ter  open.  Its  typewritten  message  was  brief  but 
significant.  "Only  twenty-seven  days  more,"  it 
read.  The  grinning  death's  head  seal  seemed  to 
Duvall's  astonished  eyes  even  more  terrifying  than 
before. 

With  a  bound  he  reached  the  rear  window,  and 
swung  himself  upon  the  fire  escape.  There  was  no 
one  in  sight.  The  gray  surface  of  the  ironwork 
showed  not  the  slightest  scratch,  save  those  made  by 
his  own  heels  earlier  in  the  day.  The  steps  of  the 
ladder  leading  up  to  the  next  floor  were  glistening, 
immaculate.  Those  of  the  one  to  the  floor  below 
were  equally  so.  He  re-entered  the  room,  and  going 
to  the  opposite  window,  threw  it  wide  open.  The 
three  dormer  windows  of  the  adjoining  house  were 
gray,  dusty,  as  though  they  had  not  been  opened  for 
years.  He  turned  to  his  companion  with  a  look  of 
amazement. 

"In  all  my  experience,  Mrs.  Morton,"  he  said,  "I 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  57 

do  not  think  that  I  have  ever  encountered  anything 
quite  so  astonishing.  That  letter  must  have  been 
placed  there  while  I  was  in  the  apartment  above. 
Your  cook,  your  maid,  are  out.  Certainly  you  did 
not  place  it  there  yourself.  And  yet  we  know  that 
someone  has  been  in  this  room,  or  at  least  delivered 
the  letter,  during  the  past  fifteen  minutes.  Had  I 
not  found  it  here  myself,  I  should  have  been  almost 
tempted  to  disbelieve  it,  but  I  am  forced  to  admit 
its  truth." 

Mrs.  Morton  stood  wringing  her  hands. 

"It — it  seems  almost  supernatural,"  she  ex 
claimed.  "Poor  Ruth.  What  are  we  to  do?" 

"There  is  nothing  supernatural  about  the  matter, 
madam,"  Duvall  remarked.  "I  don't  doubt  the  ex 
planation  is  simple  enough,  could  we  but  hit  upon  it. 
But  so  far  I  confess  I  am  unable  to  understand  it." 
He  went  over  to  the  wall  which  adjoined  that  of  the 
house  next  door,  and  sounded  it,  inch  by  inch,  with 
a  small  hammer  he  took  from  his  bag  of  tools. 
The  operation  required  several  minutes.  When 
he  had  completed  it,  he  tossed  the  hammer  back 
into  his  kit  in  disgust.  "Brick,  of  course,"  he 
said,  "and  perfectly  solid."  He  turned  toward  the 
door. 


$8  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  now?"  Mrs.  Morton 
asked. 

"Try  to  find  out  something  through  this  telegram. 
And  also,  investigate  the  house  next  door." 

"But,  you  will  come  back?    I  am  afraid." 

"I  shall  be  at  your  call  at  all  times,  Mrs.  Morton. ' 
If  anything  of  interest  occurs,  notify  me  here."  He 
drew  a  card  from  his  pocket  and  wrote  upon  it  the 
name  of  his  hotel.  "Say  nothing  to  your  daughter 
about  these  new  threats.  I  shall  probably  see  you 
again  later  in  the  day."  Shouldering  his  kit  of  tools/ 
Duvall  left  the  apartment.  He  was  by  no  means 
satisfied  with  the  results  of  his  visit.  In  fact  there 
had  apparently  been  no  results  at  all. 


CHAPTER  V 

DUV ALL'S  first  move,  after  leaving  Mrs. 
Morton's  apartment  that  morning,  was  to 
enter  the  taxicab  which  had  been  waiting 
for  him  at  the  door  and  return  to  his  hotel.  A  light 
overcoat  which  he  had  in  the  vehicle  concealed  his 
workman's  disguise  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to 
reach  his  room  without  exciting  comment.  Once 
there,  he  changed  his  clothes,  putting  on  a  profes 
sional  looking  frock  coat,  and  adjusting  a  pair  of 
shell-rimmed  eyeglasses  to  complete  the  slight  dis 
guise.  Thus  equipped,  he  once  more  set  out. 

Grace  had  left  a  note  for  him,  saying  that  she  had 
gone  shopping.  Beside  it  lay  the  photograph  of 
Ruth  Morton,  which  he  had,  he  remembered,  left 
on  his  chiffonier  while  putting  on  his  workman's 
clothes  that  morning.  At  the  foot  of  her  hastily 
written  note  Grace  had  added  a  postscript.  "Is 
this  the  reason  for  your  sudden  interest  in  motion 
pictures?"  it  read.  "Well,  I'll  admit  she's  a  raving 
beauty,  Richard,  but  I'll  bet  she  isn't  half  as  nice  as 

59 


60  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

I  am."  Duvall  read  the  note  with  a  smile.  Grace 
was  always  such  a  thoroughly  good  comrade. 

Leaving  the  hotel,  he  went  to  the  telegraph  office 
from  which  the  message  to  Ruth  Morton  had  been 
delivered  that  morning.  It  was  on  Columbus  Ave-1 
nue,  some  four  blocks  from  the  Mortons'  apartment. 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  this  telegram  was  sent 
from?"  he  asked.  The  message  showed  that  it  had 
been  filed,  as  well  as  delivered,  within  the  city  limits. 

The  man  behind  the  desk  looked  up  his  records. 

"It  was  sent  from  the  main  office  on  lower  Broad 
way,  at  8.30,"  he  said,  briefly. 

Duvall  thanked  him,  then  turned  away.  Although 
he  realized  that  he  could  scarcely  hope  to  obtain 
even  a  scanty  description  of  the  sender  of  the  tele 
gram  from  the  main  office,  he  determined  to  go 
there.  First,  however,  he  walked  back  toward  the 
Mortons'  apartment,  and  going  up  the  steps  of  the 
brownstone  house  adjoining,  rang  the  doorbell. 

A  neat  maid-servant  opened  the  door.  Duvall 
favored  her  with  a  smile,  at  the  same  time  taking  a 
notebook  and  pencil  from  his  pocket. 

"I  am  making  some  corrections  in  the  city  direc 
tory,"  he  said.  "Will  you  please  give  me  the  names 
of  all  the  persons  living  in  this  house." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  61 

The  girl  stared  at  him  for  a  moment,  but  his  pros 
perous  appearance,  his  businesslike  manner,  dis 
armed  any  suspicion  she  may  have  felt. 

"There's — there's  Mr.  William  Perkins,"  she  said, 
"and  Mrs.  Perkins,  and  Mr.  Robert,  that's  Mr.  Per 
kins'  son,  and — and  Miss  Elizabeth,  although  she's 
away  at  boarding  school,  and — and  Emily  Thomp 
son,  the  cook,  and — and  me.  My  name's  Mary. 
Mary  Wickes." 

"Thank  you,  Mary,"  Duvall  replied,  entering  the 
names  carefully  in  his  notebook.  "And  Mr.  Per 
kins,  the  elder  Mr.  Perkins,  I  mean,  is  he  the 
lawyer?" 

"No,  sir.     It's  Mr.  Robert  that's  the  lawyer,  sir. 
Mr.  William  Perkins  is  in  the  leather  business." 
.     "Ah,  yes.    I  see.    Thank  you  very  much  indeed. 
And  there  are  no  boarders,  or  other  persons  what 
ever  living  in  the  house  ?" 
'     "No,  sir.     Not  any,  sir." 

Duvall  closed  his  book  and  put  it  carefully  in  his 
pocket. 

"Now,  Mary,"  he  continued.  "Just  one  more 
question.  Does  any  one  sleep  in  the  attic?" 

"The  attic,  sir?  Why,  no  sir.  Cook  and  I  sleep 
on  the  fourth  floor,  sir,  but  the  attic  isn't  used,  ex- 


62  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

cept  for  storage,  sir.  Are  you  going  to  put  that  in 
the  directory  too,  sir?"  The  girl  regarded  him  with 
wondering  eyes. 

"No,  Mary.  Not  in  the  directory.  But  we  want 
to  be  sure  not  to  omit  any  names,  and  I  thought  that 

if  there  was  anyone  living  in  the  attic "  he 

paused. 

"No  one,  as  I've  told  you.  Nobody  ever  goes  up 
there,  so  far  as  I  know.  Is  that  all,  sir  ?" 

"Yes.    That's  all.    Thank  you.    Good  morning." 

Duvall  went  down  the  steps,  and  proceeded  to  the 
subway  station,  somewhat  mystified.  He  had 
handled  many  curious  cases  in  the  past,  many  that 
had  been  notable  for  their  intricacy,  their  complex 
ity  of  motive  and  detail.  But  here,  he  felt,  was  a 
case  of  a  very  different  sort,  the  peculiarity  of  which 
lay  in  its  astonishing  lack  of  clues  of  any  sort. 
Usually  in  the  past  there  had  been  motives,  evidence, 
traces  of  some  kind  or  other,  upon  which  to  build 
a  case.  Here  there  was  nothing,  except  the  three 
mysterious  letters,  the  one  equally  mysterious 
telegram.  He  felt  baffled,  uncertain  which  way 
to  turn.  In  rather  a  dissatisfied  frame  of  mind  he 
made  his  way  to  the  telegraph  office  in  lower  Broad 
way. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  63 

There  were  several  clerks  engaged  in  receiving 
messages.  He  approached  one  of  them. 

"This  telegram,"  he  said,  holding  out  the  slip  of 
yellow  paper  Mrs.  Morton  had  given  him,  "was 
sent  from  this  office  at  half  past  eight  this  morning. 
Can  you  by  any  chance  give  me  a  description  of  the 
person  who  sent  it?"  He  leaned  over  and  addressed 
the  clerk  in  a  low  tone.  "I  am  a  detective,"  he  said. 
"The  telegram  is  part  of  a  blackmailing  scheme." 

The  man  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then 
consulted  with  an  older  man,  evidently  his  superior. 
The  latter  came  forward. 

"I  received  this  message  myself,  sir,"  he  said. 
"I  remember  it,  because  of  its  peculiar  wording. 
What  is  it  you  wish  to  know  ?" 

"I  would  like  a  description  of  the  person  who  sent 
it,"  Duvall  told  him. 

The  man  thought  for  a  moment. 

"I'm  not  able  to  tell  you  much,"  he  said.  "It 
was  a  woman — I  didn't  notice  particularly  whether 
she  was  young  or  old.  In  fact,  she  didn't  give  me. 
a  chance,  just  laid  the  message  and  the  money  down,^ 
and  went  right  out.  She  evidently  knew  the  rate, 
for  the  amount  she  left  was  correct.  I  took  the 
message  and  read  it,  without  noticing  her  particu- 


64  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

larly,  and  then,  when  I  had  finished  reading  it  and 
looked  up,  she  had  gone." 

"Then  you  can't  tell  me  anything  about  her?" 
Duvall  asked,  greatly  disappointed. 

"Not  a  thing.  I  remember  it  was  a  woman,  and 
my  general  impression  is  that  she  was  rather  young 
and  small,  but  I  can't  be  at  all  sure.  You  see,  sir, 
a  great  many  persons  come  in,  during  the  day,  and 
we  haven't  time  to  take  note  of  them  particularly. 
As  I  say,  I  read  the  telegram  first,  and  counted  the 
words.  By  that  time  she  had  left  the  office." 

Duvall  thanked  the  man  for  his  information  and 
made  his  way  to  the  street.  Something  at  least  had 
been  gained.  The  person  who  was  hounding  Ruth 
Morton  was  a  woman. 

By  this  he  was  not  at  all  surprised.  He  had  felt 
for  some  time  that  Ruth's  enemy  was,  in  all  proba 
bility,  some  jealous  and  envious  movie  actress  who, 
herself  unsuccessful,  resented  the  youth  and  beauty 
of  her  successful  rival.  He  called  a  taxi  and  directed 
the  driver  to  take  him  out  to  the  studio  of  the  com 
pany  with  which  Ruth  was  connected.  Here,  in  all 
probability,  was  to  be  found  the  woman  he  sought. 

The  journey  consumed  considerably  over  an  hour, 
and  it  was  lunch  time  when  he  finally  drew  up  before 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  65 

the  entrance  to  the  series  of  studio  buildings.  Before 
entering  he  went  to  a  nearby  restaurant  to  get  a  bite 
to  eat. 

It  was  a  small  and  rather  cheap  place,  but  at  this 
hour  was  crowded  with  the  employees  of  the  big 
company.  Duvall  at  first  could  not  find  a  seat,  but 
presently  discovered  one  at  a  table  not  far  from  the 
door,  at  which  were  seated  some  young  men,  appar 
ently  stenographers  or  clerks. 

While  waiting  for  his  order  of  sandwiches  and 
milk,  the  detective  occupied  himself  with  a  news 
paper.  He  was  not  reading  it,  however,  although 
he  pretended  to  be  deeply  engrossed  in  its  contents. 
He  was  in  reality  listening  to  the  gossip  of  the 
studio,  which  rose  in  a  chorus  about  him. 

From  a  nearby  table  came  the  voice  of  a  woman, 
evidently  a  great  admirer  of  Ruth  Morton. 

"I  tell  you,"  she  said,  "that  new  film  that  she 
finished  last  week,  An  American  Beauty,  is  going 
to  be  a  knockout.  She's  the  swellest  thing  on  the 
screen.  Got  'em  all  faded,  /  think." 

"Think  so?"  questioned  one  of  her  companions. 
"I'm  pretty  strong  for  Helen  Ward,  myself." 

"Ruth  Morton  won't  last,"  remarked  a  third,  in 
a  petulant  voice. 


66  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Course  she'll  last  Say — ain't  that  a  bear  of  a 
title?  An  American  Beauty.  She  always  seems  like 
a  beautiful  big  rose,  to  me." 

!  "Well,  roses  don't  last,  do  they?"  asked 
.the  petulant  voice  again.  "Not  very  long,  any 
way." 

Duvall  turned  suddenly  in  an  effort  to  see  the 
face  of  the  speaker,  but  try  as  he  would,  he  was 
unable  to  do  so.  Two  of  the  girls  sat  with  their 
backs  to  him.  He  could  not  manage  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  either  of  them.  Almost  as  he  turned, 
the  three  rose  and  made  their  way  to  the  street. 
For  a  moment  he  thought  of  following  them,  but 
the  idea  seemed  absurd.  These  twelve  dollar  a  week 
stenographers  or  clerks  could  have  no  part  in  the 
plot  against  Miss  Morton.  And  yet,  there  was 
something  startling  in  the  young  woman's  words. 
"Roses  don't  last."  The  telegram  received  by  Ruth 
Morton  that  morning  had  contained  almost  the  same 
phrase.  "Even  the  beauty  of  the  rose  cannot  en- 
,dure."  Then  he  remembered  the  title  of  the  new 
film  of  which  the  girls  had  spoken,  and  smiled  at 
his  own  suspicions.  "An  American  Beauty."  It 
would  be  natural,  perfectly  natural  for  anyone  to 
refer  to  Ruth  as  a  rose,  with  that  title  for  her  latest 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  67 

picture.  He  dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind, 
and  proceeded  to  make  a  hasty  lunch. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  studio  he  explained  that 
he  was  a  writer  of  special  articles  for  the  Sunday 
papers,  and  had  come  to  "write  up"  the  life  at  the 
studios.  He  was  promptly  turned  over  to  one  of 
the  officials  who,  after  a  few  inquiries,  seemed  de 
lighted  at  the  opportunity  to  obtain  free  publicity 
for  his  company  and  its  stars. 

"I  want  particularly  to  give  a  sketch  of  Miss  Ruth 
Morton,"  he  said.  "She  seems  to  be  such  a  universal 
favorite." 

"A  most  delightful  and  charming  woman,"  his 
companion  asserted,  with  a  pleased  smile.  "Come 
this  way.  You  may  be  able  to  see  her  at  work." 
He  led  Duvall  down  a  long  corridor,  and  into  one 
of  the  big  studio  rooms. 

The  first  impression  Duvall  got  was  that  of  utter 
Confusion.  People  were  darting  here  and  there,  in 
ordinary  clothes,  or  in  all  sorts  of  makeups.  Stage 
carpenters  were  creating  a  terrific  racket,  building  a 
new  scene.  A  tangle  of  electric  light  cables,  a 
blinding  glare  from  the  arcs,  a  confusion  of  voices, 
a  wilderness  of  scenery  and  "props"  all  combined 
to  create  an  impression  quite  the  reverse  of  what 


68  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

he  had  expected.  Here,  he  felt,  was  something 
very  different  from  the  theater,  something  bigger, 
yet  more  elemental,  in  which  vast  sums  were  ex 
pended  daily  to  amuse  a  vaster  indeed,  a  world-wide, 
audience.  He  sat  down  upon  a  box,  and  inspected 
the  scene  before  him. 

"Miss  Morton  will  be  on  in  a  few  moments," 
his  guide  said. 

Duvall  nodded.  His  attention  was  fixed  upon 
the  little  drama  going  on  before  him.  He  knew 
nothing  of  the  plot  of  the  play,  but  the  mechanical 
features  of  the  operation  held  his  interest  keenly. 
The  brilliant  electric  lights,  the  setting  of  the  little 
room,  the  actors  in  their  ghastly  greenish  makeups, 
the  camera  man,  grinding  stolidly  away  at  his  ma 
chine,  the  director,  hovering  about  like  a  hawk, 
watching  every  movement,  every  gesture,  with  a 
superlatively  critical  eye,  all  spoke  to  him  of  a  new 
world,  and  one  with  which  he  was  not  in  the  least 
familiar. 

Suddenly  he  saw  the  lovely  face  of  Ruth  Morton, 
as  the  girl  appeared  from  an  open  doorway.  She 
did  not  take  part  in  the  picture  at  once,  but  stood 
chatting  with  the  director,  awaiting  the  moment 
when  she  would  make  her  entrance.  Duvall  watched 


"Come  to  my  house  some  evening,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  being  a 

'movie'  star" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  69 

her  intently.  Her  face,  he  thought,  was  drawn, 
nervous,  her  expression  one  of  fear.  She  seemed 
suspicious  of  every  one  who  came  near  her,  as 
though  she  suspected  that  every  stage  hand,  every 
electrician  or  helper,  had  in  his  possession  a  bottle 
of  vitriol,  which  he  only  awaited  the  moment  to 
hurl  in  her  face.  That  the  girl's  nervous  manner, 
her  strained  and  tense  expression,  was  evident  to 
others  as  well  as  to  himself,  he  realized  from  a  re 
mark  his  companion  made  to  him. 

"Miss  Morton  doesn't  seem  herself  to-day,"  he 
said.  "She  must  have  something  on  her  mind.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  she  has  been  working  too 
hard  lately." 

Duvall  made  no  reply.  He  was  watching,  not 
only  Ruth,  but  those  about  her.  In  particular  he 
observed  the  other  women  in  the  cast.  It  seemed 
not  improbable  that  among  them  he  would  find  the 
one  whose  envy  had  led  to  the  sending  of  the 
threats  Ruth  had  been  receiving. 

Presently  the  scene  was  finished,  and  Ruth,  in 
response  to  a  call  from  Duvall's  companion,  came 
toward  them. 

"Miss  Morton,"  the  latter  said,  "let  me  present 
Mr.  Richards."  This  was  the  name  Duvall  had 


70  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

given.  "He  is  anxious  to  meet  you,  and  write  you 
up  for  one  of  the  newspapers." 

Ruth  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  smile  which 
Duvall  saw  clearly  enough  was  forced.  The  gir1 
was  palpably  worn,  distrait. 

"I'm  not  going  to  interview  you  now,  Miss  Mor 
ton,"  he  said.  "I  can  understand  that  you  must  be 
tired,  after  posing  all  the  morning.  Let  me  come  and 
see  you  sometime  when  you  are  more  at  leisure." 

She  thanked  him  with  a  smile,  this  time  quite 
genuine. 

"I'm  not  feeling  very  well  this  afternoon,"  she 
said.  "Come  to  my  home  some  evening,  or  better 
still,  on  Sunday,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know  about 
being  a  'movie'  star.  So  glad  to  have  met  you." 
She  was  just  about  to  turn  away,  when  a  small  boy 
came  up,  carrying  in  his  hand  a  flat  package, 
wrapped  in  brown  paper.  Duvall  observed  that  the 
package  had  upon  it  a  typewritten  address. 

"Something  for  you,  Miss  Morton,"  he  said,  and 
placed  the  package  in  Ruth's  hand. 

The  girl  looked  at  it  for  a  moment  in  dismay. 
Then  realizing  that  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  were 
bent  curiously  upon  her,  she  recovered  herself  and 
tore  open  the  brown  paper  envelope.  Duvall,  with 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  ?f 

one  eye  on  the  boy,  saw  that  he  had  disappeared 
tkrough  the  door  leading  to  the  company's  executire 
offices. 

Suddenly  Ruth,  who  had  been  examining  the  con 
tents  of  the  package,  gave  a  faint  cry,  and  swayed 
backward,  as  though  about  to  fall.  Duvall's  com 
panion  sprang  to  her  assistance,  while  Duvall  him 
self  snatched  the  object  which  had  so  affected  her 
from  her  hand  and  hastily  examined  it. 

It  was  a  photograph  of  Ruth  Morton  herself,  but 
Duvall,  as  he  gazed  at  it,  comprehended  instantly 
the  effect  it  had  produced  upon  the  girl's  over 
wrought  nerves.  Some  clever  hand  had  been  at 
work  upon  the  photograph,  retouching  it,  changing 
its  lovely  expression,  until  the  portrait,  instead  of 
being  a  thing  of  beauty,  grinned  up  at  him  in  fright 
ful  hideousness.  The  blank,  sightless  eyes,  the 
haggard  cheeks,  the  thin  wasted  lips,  the  protrud 
ing  and  jagged  teeth,  all  created  an  impression 
shocking  beyond  belief.  And  yet,  the  result  had 
been  obtained  by  the  addition  of  but  a  few  simple 
lines  and  shadows. 

Along  the  blank  space  at  the  bottom  of  the  picture 
a  line  of  typewritten  characters  had  been  placed. 
Duvall  glanced  at  them.  "As  you  will  look  soon," 


f2  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  words  read.  Below  them  was  fixed  the  grin 
ning  Death's  head  seal.  Unobserved  in  the  confu 
sion,  Duvall  thrust  the  photograph  into  his  pocket, 
and  turned  to  Ruth  and  the  others. 

The  girl  had  recovered  herself  by  now,  and  was 
being  conducted  to  her  dressing  room  by  a  solicitous 
crowd.  So  far  as  Duvall  would  see,  she  had  said 
nothing  to  those  about  her  as  to  the  cause  of  her 
sudden  indisposition,  and  with  the  exception  of  the 
man  who  had  been  Duvall's  guide,  none  of  them  had 
observed  the  opening  of  the  package  containing  the 
photograph,  nor  its  immediate  effect  upon  her. 

The  latter,  however,  whose  name  was  Baker, 
came  over  to  Duvall  and  addressed  him. 

"What  was  it  about  that  photograph  that  upset 
Miss  Morton  so?"  he  asked.  "And  what  has  be 
come  of  it?" 

Duvall  drew  him  to  one  side. 

"Let  us  go  to  your  office,  Mr.  Baker,"  he  said. 
"I  have  a  most  important  matter  to  discuss  with 
you." 

Baker  regarded  the  detective  for  a  moment  in 
surprise,  then,  seeing  that  Duvall  was  very  much  in 
earnest,  he  led  the  way  to  his  private  office. 

"I   am   not   a   newspaper   writer,    Mr.    Baker," 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  73 

Duvall  said,  as  soon  as  they  were  seated.  "As  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  am  a  detective,  in  the  employ  of 
Mrs.  Morton,  Ruth  Morton's  mother." 

"A  detective?"  he  questioned.  "Why  has  Miss 
Morton's  mother  employed  a  detective  ?" 

"Because  someone  is  persecuting  the  girl,  by  send 
ing  her  threatening  letters,  saying  that  her  beauty 
is  to  be  destroyed.  This  photograph" — he  drew  the 
hideous  picture  from  his  pocket — "is  a  sample  of 
their  work." 

Mr.  Baker  regarded  the  photograph  for  a  moment 
in  silence,  then  rose  with  a  growl  of  rage  and  struck 
his  clenched  fist  upon  the  desk. 

"This  is  outrageous — damnable!"  he  cried.  "It 
cannot  go  on.  No  wonder  the  poor  girl  looked  tired 
out.  We  will  put  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the 
police.  We  will  spend  any  amount  of  money " 

"Wait  a  moment,  Mr.  Baker,"  Duvall  interrupted, 
urging  the  angry  man  back  into  his  chair.  "Nothing 
is  to  be  gained  by  giving  any  publicity  to  this  mat 
ter.  The  scoundrels  who  are  at  the  bottom  of  it 
will  at  once  be  warned,  and  then  our  chance  of 
catching  them  will  be  small  indeed.  So  far,  not 
a  soul  knows  that  I  am  working  on  this  case,  out 
side  of  Mrs.  Morton,  and  yourself.  Even  Miss 


74  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Ruth  does  not  know  it.  I  have  already  unearthed 
some  very  surprising  things  connected  with  the  case, 
although  I  have  been  occupied  with  it  only  since 
this  morning.  Within  a  few  days,  I  have  no  doubt, 
I  shall  be  able  to  place  my  hands  upon  the  person 
or  persons  responsible  for  the  trouble,  but  I  must 
insist  that  I  be  given  a  free  hand." 

'"'But,"  Mr.  Baker  expostulated,  "she  may  be 
in  immediate  danger.  At  any  moment  some 
thing  may  happen  that  would  ruin  her  beauty,  and 
incidentally,  ruin  us  as  well.  She  is  our  star  at 
traction." 

"I  do  not  think  the  danger  is  immediate,"  DuvaiJ 
replied  gravely.  "All  the  threats  so  far  received 
set  thirty  days  as  the  period  within  which  the  attack 
is  to  be  made.  Only  three  days  have  passed,  so  far. 
And  in  addition,  Miss  Morton  is  being  very  care 
fully  guarded." 

"She  certainly  shall  be  while  she  is  here  at  the 
studio,"  Mr.  Baker  exclaimed.  "But,  man,  some 
thing  ought  to  be  done — at  once." 

"The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  find  out  how 
that  photograph  got  here — who  brought  it — and 
when.  It  was  not  delivered  by  mail.  Look  here." 
He  handed  the  angry  official  the  torn  manilla  en- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  75 

velope,  which  Ruth,  in  her  excitement,  had  dropped 
upon  the  floor. 

Mr.  Baker  regarded  it  for  a  moment  in  angry 
silence,  then  pressed  an  electric  button  upon  his  desk. 
A  young  woman  responded. 

"Send  Jim  here,"  he  said.  The  girl  nodded  and 
withdrew. 

A  few  moments  later  a  freckled-faced  boy  of 
twelve  or  fourteen  came  in.  Duvall  saw  that  it 
was  the  same  boy  who  had  brought  in  the  photo 
graph. 

"You  sent  for  me,  sir?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.  Where  did  you  get  the  package  you  de 
livered  to  Miss  Morton  a  little  while  ago?" 

"From  Mr.  Curry,  sir." 

"Good."  Mr.  Baker  rose  and  went  toward  the 
door.  "Come  with  me,"  he  said  to  Duvall,  "and 
you  too,  Jim."  The  three  of  them  went  along  the 
corridor,  arriving  presently  at  the  main  entrance  to 
the  building.  An  elderly  man  sat  at  a  high  desk 
behind  a  wire  grating. 

"Curry,"  Mr.  Baker  burst  out,  "this  boy  tells  me 
you  gave  him  a  package  for  Miss  Morton  a  while 
ago." 

"Yes,  sir." 


76  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

The  man  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Why,  sir,  someone  left  it  here — on  my  desk. 
I  don't  know  who,  sir.  Right  after  lunch,  it  was. 
You  know  people  deliver  things  here  all  the  time. 
I  didn't  take  any  particular  notice  how  it  got  here. 
It  was  just  pushed  through  the  window,  I  guess, 
same  as  usual.  There  was  a  lot  of  mail  in  the  rack, 
after  lunch,  and  everybody  asking  for  theirs  as 
they  came  in.  In  fact,  I  don't  remember  seeing  the 
package  handed  in  at  all.  Just  found  it  lying  on 
my  desk,  along  with  a  lot  of  letters  and  things. 
Why,  sir.  Is  anything  wrong?" 

Baker  turned  to  Duvall  in  disgust. 

"No  system  here  at  all,"  he  grumbled.  "The  trail 
is  lost,  of  course.  Half  a  hundred  people  come 
through  here  every  hour.  That's  all,  Jim,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  boy,  who  disappeared  at  once.  Ac 
companied  by  Duvall,  Baker  returned  to  the  private 
office. 

"Well?"  Mr.  Baker  asked.     "What  next?" 

"How  many  typewriters  have  you  in  your  offices, 
Mr.  Baker?  Machines,  I  mean,  not  operators." 

"About  thirty,  I  guess.  Or  maybe  thirty-five. 
Why?" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  77 

"I  want  you  to  get  me  a  sample  of  the  writing 
of  each  machine,  without  letting  anyone  know  about 
it.  Put  each  one  on  a  separate  sheet  of  paper,  with 
a  note  added,  stating  whose  machine  it  is — that  is, 
in  whose  office." 

<  Mr.  Baker  nodded.  "I'll  do  it  to-night/'  he 
said.  "Attend  to  it  myself.  I  see  your  idea.  You 
think  this  thing  is  the  work  of  someone  inside  the 
studio." 

"It  may  be,  I  don't  know.     But  I  mean  to  find 
out." 
I     "All  right.     Anything  else?" 

"Yes.     Tell  me  something  about  this  new  film 
you've  just  gotten  out.     'An  American  Beauty/  I 
think  it  is  called." 
I     Mr.  Baker's  manner  became  enthusiastic. 

"Greatest  film  Ruth  Morton  ever  did,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "A  knockout.  It  is  to  be  shown  at  the 
Grand,  on  Broadway,  to-morrow  night.  First  time 
on  the  screen.  You'd  better  look  it  over." 

"I  probably  shall.  Now,  tell  me  this.  If  I  wanted! 
to  add  anything  to  that  picture,  put  in  an  insert,  I 
believe  you  call  it,  could  I  do  so,  if  I  told  you  about 
it  to-morrow?" 

"Well — it  might  be  done,"  Mr.   Baker  replied, 


78  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

dubiously.  "But  we  wouldn't  want  to  change  the 
film  any.  It's  perfect  as  it  is." 

"I  don't  doubt  that.  I  have  no  idea  of  improv 
ing  it  in  any  way.  But  it  is  just  possible  that  I 
may  have  a  scheme  that  will  help  us  to  catch  these 
people  who  are  threatening  Miss  Morton.  I'll  tell 
you  more  about  it,  to-morrow.  Meanwhile,  don't 
forget  about  the  typewriter  samples.  I'll  see  you 
in  the  morning."  He  rose.  "And  for  the  present, 
I  think  it  would  be  best  for  you  to  keep  what  I 
have  told  you  to  yourself." 

Mr.  Baker  nodded. 

"I'll  do  that,"  he  said,  putting  out  his  hand.  "For 
the  present,  at  least.  But  don't  forget,  Mr.  Duvall, 
that  this  is  a  very  vital  matter  to  our  company, 
and  we  can't  afford  to  take  any  chances." 

"I  realize  that  fully.  You  can  depend  on  me. 
I  intend  to  save  Miss  Morton  from  any  harm,  not 
primarily  on  your  company's  account,  but  on  her 
own.  Good  day." 

"Good  day,  and  the  best  of  luck." 

Duvall  went  toward  the  entrance,  and  in  the  cor 
ridor  met  Mrs.  Morton.  She  was  about  to  pass  him, 
but  he  detained  her. 

"Twenty-seven  days  more,"  he  whispered  to  her. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  79 

She  turned  sharply,  a  look  of  fear  upon  her  face, 
but  as  she  recognized  Duvall,  her  expression 
changed. 

"Oh — it's  you,"  she  exclaimed.  "I've  just  come 
down  in  the  car,  to  take  Ruth  home.  Is  everything 
all  right?" 

;  "Yes,  so  far.  At  least  no  harm  has  come  to  your 
daughter.  But  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  she  has  re 
ceived  another  warning." 

"Here  ?"  Mrs.  Morton  started,  and  glanced  about 
in  alarm. 

"Yes." 

"What  was  it?" 

"A  photograph."  Duvall  explained  the  contents 
of  the  mysterious  package,  but  did  not  show  the 
hideous  picture  to  the  girl's  mother. 

"And  you  haven't  found  out  anything  yet?" 

"Nothing  definite.  There  has  scarcely  been  time. 
But  we  will.  You  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"Have  you  seen  Ruth?"  Mrs.  Morton  asked. 

"Yes.  Mr.  Baker  introduced  me  to  her.  She 
thinks  I  am  a  newspaper  man,  who  wants  to  write 
a  special  article  about  her  for  one  of  the  Sunday 
papers.  She  suggested  that  I  call  at  your  house 
some  evening,  or  possibly  Sunday.  If  you  are 


8o  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

going  back  to  town  soon,  I  think  it  might  be  a  good 
idea  for  me  to  drive  back  with  you." 

"By  all  means.  I  shall  feel  much  safer.  Suppose 
you  wait  for  us  at  the  entrance.  I  shall  not  be 
long." 

Duvall  nodded,  and  strolled  toward  the  street,  his 
mind  busy  with  the  events  of  the  day.  He  stood 
for  quite  a  while  near  the  door,  watching  the  people 
who  came  in  and  out.  Many  of  them  were  women. 
He  wondered  if  among  them  was  the  woman  who 
was  responsible  for  the  threats  of  the  past  three 
days.  It  seemed  improbable,  and  yet,  there  were 
indications  that  it  was  within  the  studio,  rather 
than  outside  it,  that  the  guilty  person  was  to  be 
found. 

Mrs.  Morton  came  out  presently,  accompanied  by 
Ruth.  The  girl  looked  pale  and  troubled.  Duvall 
went  up  to  her. 

"I  have  met  your  mother,  Miss  Morton,"  he 
said,  "and  she  has  very  kindly  suggested  that  I  ride 
back  to  the  city  with  you." 

The  girl  nodded,  without  particular  interest. 

"We  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you,"  she  said, 
"but  you  will  excuse  me,  I  know,  if  I  do  not  talk 
to  you  about  my  work.  I  am  feeling  rather  bad 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  81 

to-day,  and  I'm  sure  I  couldn't  tell  you  anything 
interesting." 

"I'm  sure  I  would  not  expect  it,  under  the  cir 
cumstances,"  Duvall  replied,  as  Miss  Morton,  ac 
companied  by  her  mother,  went  toward  the  automo- 
bile  that  stood  near  the  entrance.  "I  don't  doubt 
your  work  is  full  of  trying  incidents." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  my  work,"  the  girl  replied,  as  he 
assisted  her  into  the  car.  "I  love  my  work.  But 
there  are  other  things."  She  glanced  toward  her 
mother  with  a  tired  smile,  then  sank  back  upon  the 
cushions. 

A  moment  later  they  were  whirling  toward  the 
city. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DUVALL'S  ride  back  to  town  with  Mrs. 
Morton  and  Ruth  was  quite  uneventful. 
The  latter,  as  she  had  explained,  was  ill, 
weak,  indisposed  to  talk.  Duvall  and  Mrs.  Morton 
kept  up  a  brisk  conversation  upon  topics  of  the  day, 
but  both  knew  that  it  was  of  the  girl  they  were 
thinking,  and  their  interest  in  the  subjects  they 
discussed  was  clearly  forced.  Both  were  glad  when 
the  car  at  last  stopped  before  the  apartment  build 
ing,  and  the  long  ride  was  over. 

Mrs.  Morton  invited  Duvall  to  come  in  and  dine 
with  them,  and  he  promptly  accepted.  Ruth  seemed 
indifferent.  Assisted  by  her  maid,  she  left  the  car 
and  on  reaching  the  apartment,  at  once  went  to  her 
room. 

"You  will  excuse  me,  I  know,"  she  said  to  Duvall. 
"I  am  tired  out,  and  think  I  had  better  lie  down  at 
once.  Dora  will  bring  me  some  dinner,"  she  said, 
turning  to  her  mother. 

Duvall  and  Mrs.  Morton  ate  their  dinner  in 
82 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  83 

silence.  Some  sense  of  oppression,  of  impending 
evil,  hung  over  them  both.  Mrs.  Morton  left  the 
table  toward  the  close  of  the  meal,  and  went  to  her 
daughter's  room.  With  the  solicitude  of  the  typical 
mother  she  arranged  the  windows.  That  opening 
to  the  fire  escape  she  raised  to  its  full  height.  The 
one  facing  upon  the  court  she  left  as  it  was,  raised 
some  six  or  eight  inches.  Then,  having  kissed  her 
daughter  good  night,  she  returned  to  the  library, 
where  Duvall  sat  smoking  a  cigar. 

"Ruth  has  gone  to  bed,"  she  told  him.     "Both 
the  windows  in  her  room  are  open,  the  one  on  the 
fire-escape  wide,  the  other  partly  raised." 
j     Duvall  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  doubt. 

"I  think  it  would  be  better,  for  the  present,"  he 
said,  "to  close  and  fasten  the  one  opening  on  the 
fire  escape.  We  cannot  tell  to  what  danger  your 
daughter  may  be  exposed." 

Mrs.  Morton  rose  and  left  the  room. 

"I  will  do  as  you  advise,"  she  said.  Going  to 
Ruth's  bedroom  she  closed  and  fastened  the  window 
in  question,  then  she  went  back  to  the  library. 

"Have  you  hit  upon  any  theory  to  account  for 
the  sending  of  these  letters?"  she  asked. 

Duvall  shook  his  head. 


84  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"The  whole  thing  is  very  mysterious,"  he  said. 
"Of  course  it  was  easy  enough  for  anyone  to  leave 
the  photograph  at  the  studio  this  afternoon.  In 
fact  it  might  readily  have  been  done  by  one  of  the 
other  actresses,  who  might  be  jealous  of  your 
daughter's  success.  But  if  the  thing  was  done  by 
anyone  employed  at  the  studio,  how  can  we  account 
for  the  message  left  in  the  bedroom  at  half-past 
nine  this  morning,  the  one  we  found  on  the  floor? 
If  the  woman  who  is  responsible  for  these  threats 
was  at  the  studio  this  morning,  how  could  she 
arrange  to  have  the  note  left  in  your  daughter's 
bedroom  here  at  the  same  hour?  That  would  seem 
to  imply  a  confederate.  I  confess  that  the  entire 
matter  is  for  the  moment  beyond  me." 

"Were  you  able  to  find  out  anything  concerning 
the  telegram  which  came  this  morning?" 

"Nothing,  except  that  it  was  sent  by  a  woman. 
I  was  not  surprised  to  learn  that.  Naturally  I 
should  expect  that  a  woman  was  responsible  for 
these  threats.  But  what  woman  ?  That  is  the  ques 
tion."  He  sat  for  a  long  time,  thinking,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  floor. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  ring  at  the  doorbell.  Mrs. 
Morton,  without  waiting  for  the  maid,  sprang  to 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  85 

the  hall,  with  Duvall  close  at  her  heels.  As  she 
threw  it  open,  they  saw  a  man  standing  in  the  door 
way.  Duvall  was  the  first  to  recognize  their  caller. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Baker,"  he  said,  holding 
out  his  hand. 

Mr.  Baker  came  in,  and  greeted  Mrs.  Morton. 

"I  didn't  expect  to  find  Mr.  Duvall  here,"  he  said. 
"In  fact,  I  came  to  you  to  get  his  hotel  address. 
Luckily  I  won't  need  it,  now." 

"Anything  new?"  Duvall  asked,  as  they  returned 
to  the  library. 

"Nothing  much.  I  got  those  samples  of  the  writ 
ing  of  the  various  typewriters,  as  you  requested," 
Baker  replied,  "and  I  thought  that  instead  of  wait 
ing  until  to-morrow,  it  would  be  better  to  bring 
them  to  you  to-night."  He  took  a  sheaf  of  papers 
from  his  pocket.  "There  are  thirty-two  in  all. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  them?"  He  placed 
the  papers  in  Duvall's  hand. 

The  latter  sat  down  at  the  library  table  and  placed 
the  sheets  of  paper  before  him. 

"Of  course  you  know,"  he  said  to  Baker,  "that 
every  typewriting  machine  has  its  unmistakable  pe 
culiarities.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  find  a  machine 
that  has  been  used  at  all,  that  has  not  developed 


86  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

certain  individual  defects,  or  qualities,  found  in  no 
other  machine.  Now  let  us  take  for  instance  the 
letters  that  Miss  Morton  has  received  during  the 
past  few  days.  They  have  all  been  written  on  the 
same  machine,  and  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  it  is  a 
fairly  old  one.  While  going  down  to  the  studio  this 
afternoon,  I  worked  out  and  wrote  down  in  my  note 
book  the  particular  features  which  appear  in  all 
these  letters."  He  took  a  small  leather-covered  book 
from  his  pocket. 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  said,  "the  letter  V 
throughout  the  several  communications  is  always 
found  to  be  out  of  line.  The  key  bar  is  doubtless 
a  trifle  bent.  Let  us,  therefore,  see  if,  in  any  of 
the  samples  you  have  brought  me,  there  exists  a 
similar  defect." 

He  took  the  samples  of  writing,  one  by  one,  and 
after  scrutinizing  them  carefully,  passed  them  over 
to  Baker,  who  likewise  subjected  them  to  a  critical 
examination.  When  their  work  was  completed,  it 
was  found  that  of  the  thirty-two  samples,  the  dis 
placement  of  the  letter  "a"  occurred  in  but  three, 
and  in  one  of  these  it  was  so  slight  as  to  be  scarcely 
noticeable.  Duvall  laid  the  three  pages  to  one 
side.  • 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  87 

"A  second  fault  shown  in  the  typewriting  of  the 
letters,"  he  said,  "is  to  be  found  in  the  capital  'W.' 
Its  lower  right-hand  corner  has  been  worn  or  broken 
off,  so  that  it  invariably  fails  to  register."  He 
'handed  one  of  the  letters  to  Baker.  "See  here,  and 
here.  The  corner  of  the  *W  instead  of  being  clear 
and  distinct,  is  blunt  and  defective.  Let  us  see 
whether  a  similar  fault  is  to  be  found  in  any 
one  of  these  three  samples."  He  picked  up  the 
three  sheets  of  paper  that  he  had  placed  to  one 
side. 

As  he  examined  them,  Mr.  Baker  and  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  saw  a  shadow  of  disappointment  cross  his  face. 
He  handed  the  three  pages  to  Baker. 

"The  threatening  letters  were  not  written  on  any 
machine  at  your  studio,"  he  said. 

Baker  took  the  pages  and  looked  them  over  care 
fully. 

"No,"  he  said  at  length.  "You  are  right.  None 
of  these  show  the  second  defect  you  have  named." 

"Well,"  observed  Duvall  cheerfully,  "we  have 
accomplished  something,  at  least.  We  know  that 
these  letters  were  not  written  at  the  studio,  and  it 
seems  reasonably  certain  that  the  woman  we  are 
looking  for  has  a  typewriter  in  her  rooms,  or  wher- 


88  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

ever  she  may  live.  Of  course  she  might  have  had 
the  typewriting  done  by  some  public  stenographer, 
but  I  consider  it  unlikely.  A  person  sending  threats 
of  this  character  would  not  be  apt  to  entrust  so 
dangerous  a  secret  to  a  third  person.  We  must 
therefore  make  up  our  minds  to  find  a  woman  who 
has  a  typewriting  machine,  and  knows  how  to 
use  it." 

"There  are  probably  a  hundred  thousand  such 
women  in  New  York,"  Baker  observed,  gloomily. 

"No  doubt.  But  we  have  more  information  than 
that  about  the  person  who  sent  these  letters." 

"What,  for  instance?"  asked  Baker  and  Mrs. 
Morton  in  a  breath. 

"Well,  in  the  first  place,  this  woman  was  able 
to  secure  possession  of  a  photograph  of  Miss  Mor 
ton."  He  took  the  hideously  distorted  picture  from 
his  pocket.  "Do  either  of  you  know  where  this 
photograph  was  made?" 

Mrs.  Morton  examined  the  picture  with  a  shud 
der.  Then  she  rose,  went  to  a  cabinet  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  and  took  out  an  album.  Returning 
to  the  table,  she  placed  the  book  before  her,  and 
began  to  turn  the  pages.  In  a  few  moments  she 
found  what  she  was  looking  for,  a  duplicate  of  the 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  89 

likeness  which  lay  before  them,  with  the  exception, 
of  course,  of  its  frightful  distortions. 

"This  picture  was  made  by  Gibson,  on  Fifth 
Avenue,"  she  said,  referring  to  the  photograph  in 
the  book.  Both  Baker  and  Duvall  saw  at  once  that 
on  the  retouched  picture,  the  name  of  the  photog 
rapher  had  been  scratched  off. 

"How  many  of  them  were  made,  and  what  be 
came  of  them?"  Duvall  asked  quickly. 

"Ordinarily  I  could  not  answer  such  a  question," 
Mrs.  Morton  replied,  "for  Ruth  has  had  many  pho 
tographs  taken,  and  we  have  not  of  course  kept  a 
record  of  them,  or  what  has  become  of  them,  but 
in  this  particular  case  I  happen  to  remember  that 
she  did  not  like  the  pose  particularly,  and  ordered 
but  half  a  dozen.  I  do  not  think  that  she  gave  any 
of  them  away.  If  I  am  right  in  my  supposition, 
there  should  be  five  more  here  in  the  apartment." 
Closing  the  book,  Mrs.  Morton  went  to  the  cabinet 
again,  and  took  out  a  portfolio  containing  number 
less  photographs  of  her  daughter  in  all  sorts  of 
poses. 

After  some  searching,  she  produced  a  brown- 
paper  envelope,  containing  a  number  of  pictures, 
all  taken  by  the  same  photographer,  at  the  same 


90  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

time.  There  were  in  the  envelope  four  copies  of 
the  photograph,  the  fifth  of  which  was  contained 
in  the  album. 

"Evidently  one  has  been  given  away,"  Duvall 
exclaimed.  "Now  if  we  can  only  find  out  to  whom, 
our  search  for  the  writer  of  these  letters  may  be 
very  quickly  ended." 

Mr.  Baker  regarded  them  both  with  a  puzzled 
look. 

"I  have  seen  that  picture  before,"  he  said,  "and 
of  course  I  could  not  have  done  so,  had  I  not  seen 
the  one  that  is  missing."  He  sat  for  a  while 
in  silence,  searching  his  recollection  for  a  solution 
of  the  problem.  Suddenly  he  spoke.  "There  was  a 
picture  like  that  in  my  office,  at  one  time,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "Miss  Morton  sent  a  number  down,  for 
advertising  purposes,  and  I  am  positive  that  this  one 
was  among  them.  I  remember  distinctly  the  pose  of 
the  head,  the  unusual  arrangement  of  the  hair.  That 
photograph  should  be  in  our  files.  The  fact  that 
it  has  been  taken  out  shows  that  the  person  who' 
has  been  writing  these  letters  is  a  member  of  our 
own  staff,  or  at  least  has  access  to  our  files." 

"That  does  not  necessarily  follow,"  observed 
Duvall. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  91 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  the  picture  might  have  been  obtained 
from  the  photographer." 

"But  they  are  not  allowed  to  dispose  of  the  por 
traits  of  others,  without  the  sitter's  permission." 

"I  know  that,  but  they  sometimes  do  so,  espe 
cially  in  the  case  of  anyone  so  well  known  as  Miss 
Morton.  She  has  become  a  sort  of  public  char 
acter." 

"Well,"  remarked  Duvall,  "we  can  readily  find 
out,  in  the  morning.  You,  Mr.  Baker,  can  go 
through  your  files,  and  should  you  find  the  photo 
graph  to  be  there,  I  will  take  the  matter  up  with 
the  photographer.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  picture 
is  missing,  it  will  be  fairly  conclusive  evidence  that 
the  person  or  persons  we  are  looking  for  are  in  some 
way  connected  with  the  studio." 

"I  will  make  an  investigation  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning,"  Mr.  Baker  announced,  rising.  "Do 
you  expect  to  be  at  the  studio  early,  Mr.  Duvall?" 

"Yes.     Quite  early." 

"Then  we  had  best  leave  matters  until  then.  Good 
night.  Good  night,  Mrs.  Morton."  He  turned  and 
started  toward  the  door. 

He  had  proceeded  but  a  few  steps,  when  the  three 


92  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

occupants  of  the  room  were  startled  by  a  series 
of  sudden  and  agonizing  cries.  From  the  rear  of 
the  apartment  came  a  succession  of  screams  so  pierc 
ing  in  their  intensity,  so  filled  with  horror,  that  they 
found  themselves  for  a  moment  unable  to  stir.  Then 
Mrs.  Morton  gave  a  cry  of  anguish,  and  darted  out 
into  the  hall,  closely  followed  by  Duvall  and  Mr. 
Baker. 

The  screams  continued,  filling  the  tntire  apart 
ment  with  their  clamor.  That  the  voice  which 
uttered  them  was  that  of  Ruth  Morton  none  of  the 
three  doubted  for  a  moment.  With  sinking  hearts 
they  went  on,  prepared  for  the  worst.  Duvall  found 
himself  dreading  the  moment  when  they  should 
reach  the  bedroom  door,  and  face  the  girl,  her 
beauty,  perhaps,  disfigured  beyond  all  recognition. 

There  was  a  sharp  turn,  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 
into  a  shorter  cross  hall,  at  the  end  of  which  was 
the  door  of  Ruth's  bedroom.  It  was  closed,  but 
as  though  in  response  to  Mrs.  Morton's  agonized 
appeals,  it  suddenly  opened  as  they  reached  it,  and 
Ruth  Morton,  pale  as  death,  appeared. 

With  wide  open  eyes  staring  straight  ahead,  she 
half  stepped,  half  fell  through  the  doorway,  her 
slender  figure  clothed  only  in  her  night  dress. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  93 

"Ruth,"  Mrs.  Morton  screamed,  as  she  caught 
sight  of  her  daughter. 

The  girl  tried  to  say  something,  but  her  tongue 
failed  her.  Then,  with  a  faint  moan,  she  lurched 
forward  and  fell  limply  into  her  mother's  arms. 


PART  II 

CHAPTER  VII 

WHEN  Duvall,  Mr.  Baker,  of  the  motion  pic 
ture  company,  and  Mrs.  Morton  rushed 
down  the  hallway  of  the  latter's  apart 
ment  in  response  to  the  screams  from  Ruth's  bed 
room,  they  were  one  and  all  convinced  that  the  girl 
had  suffered  some  terrible  injury — that  the  mysteri 
ous  threats  to  destroy  her  beauty  which  had  been 
made  during  the  past  few  days  had  been  converted 
into  some  frightful  reality. 

One  glance  at  the  girl's  white  face  as  she  fell 
fainting  into  her  mother's  arms  told  the  detective 
that  their  fears  had  been,  to  that  extent  at  least, 
groundless.  The  girl's  lovely  features,  although 
drawn  and  contorted  by  fear,  showed  no  signs  of 
the  disfigurement  they  feared. 

Leaving  the  girl  to  her  mother's  care,  Duvall, 
closely  followed  by  Baker,  dashed  into  the  bedroom, 
and  at  once  switched  on  the  lights. 

94 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  95 

The  place,  to  the  intense  surprise  of  both,  pre 
sented  a  picture  of  perfect  quiet  and  order.  The 
bed  clothing  was  slightly  disarranged,  but  this  of 
course  was  but  natural,  since  Ruth  had  sprung  up 
under  the  influence  of  some  terrible  fear,  and  rushed 
from  the  room.  Everything  else  seemed  in  its  place. 

Duvall's  first  act  was  to  examine  the  window. 
The  one  fronting  on  the  fire  escape  was  closed  and 
tightly  fastened.  It  was  perfectly  clear  that  no  one 
had  entered  the  room  in  that  way. 

The  other  window,  facing  on  the  court,  was 
raised  a  few  inches,  just  as  Mrs.  Morton  had  left 
it  half  an  hour  before.  Duvall  turned  to  his  com 
panion  with  a  juzzled  frown. 

"I  had  supposed,  Mr.  Baker,"  he  said,  "that 
someone  had  entered  this  room,  and  frightened  Miss 
Morton  while  she  was  asleep,  but  that  is  impossible. 
The  windows  have  not  been  disturbed." 

Baker  glanced  at  the  one  which  faced  the  court. 

"That  one  may  have  been,"  he  said,  indicating 
it  with  a  nod.  "Someone  may  have  come  in  that 
way,  raising  the  window  to  effect  an  entrance,  and 
lowering  it  again  after  leaving." 

"I  admit  that  what  you  say  would  be  possible, 
were  there  any  way  in  which  the  window  might  be 


96  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

reached  from  outside,"  Duvall  replied,  "but  if  you 
will  look  out,  and  tell  me  how  anyone  could  make 
an  entrance  from  the  court,  I  will  agree  to  the  pos 
sibility  you  suggest." 

Baker  raised  the  window,  and  glanced  out. 

"The  apartment  above,"  Duvall  went  on,  "is  un 
occupied,  and  the  window  above  is  closed  and  fas 
tened.  The  little  attic  in  the  adjoining  house  is 
unused,  although  that  is  not  important,  since  no 
one  could  reach  this  window  from  it,  in  any  event. 
Can  you  suggest  any  other  way?" 

Mr.  Baker  shook  his  head. 

"She  must  have  been  frightened  by  some  terrible 
nightmare,"  he  said.  "I  do  not  wonder  at  it.  She 
has  gone  through  enough  to  upset  anybody's  nerves. 
Suppose  we  go  back  and  question  her." 

"Just  a  moment,"  exclaimed  Duvall.  Then  he 
dropped  upon  his  knees  beside  the  disordered  bed, 
and  began  to  examine  the  surface  of  the  counter 
pane  with  minute  care. 

"What  is  it?"  Baker  asked,  joining  him. 

T  don't  know — yet,"  returned  Duvall,  as  he  took 
a  magnifying  glass  from  his  pocket  and  proceeded 
to  scrutinize  with  the  greatest  interest  some  marks 
upon  the  counterpane's  surface.  Presently  he  rose, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  97 

replaced  the  glass  in  his  pocket,  and  turned  to  his 
companion. 

"There  is  something  very  astonishing  about  this 
whole  affair,"  he  exclaimed.  "What  do  you  make 
of  those?"  He  indicated  a  series  of  dark  smudges 
upon  the  bedspread,  arranged  in  little  groups. 

Baker  bent  over  and  examined  the  marks  with  an 
exclamation  of  surprise. 

"Why — they  look  like  finger  prints,"  he  cried. 
"Large  finger  prints." 

"It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  they  are  finger 
prints  or  not,"  Duvall  replied.  "As  you  see,  there 
are  a  great  many  of  them,  very  confusingly  ar 
ranged.  But  there  is  something  else,  that  you  have 
not  noticed.  What  do  you  suppose  could  have 
made  a  mark  like  this?"  He  pointed  to  a  long 
straight  dark  line,  which  extended  half  way  across 
the  counterpane,  and  pointed  directly  toward  the 
window  which  faced  upon  the  court.  The  line  was 
very  faint,  but  clearly  defined,  as  though  someone/ 
had  laid  a  thin  dusty  stick  across  the  bed. 

"I  can't  make  anything  of  it,"  Baker  exclaimed, 
gazing  toward  the  window. 

"Nor  can  I,"  said  Duvall.  "At  one  time,  because 
of  certain  indentations  on  the  letters  found  in  this 


98  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

room,  I  had  thought  that  they  might  have  been 
introduced  through  the  partly  opened  window  by 
means  of  a  long  rod,  a  fishing  pole,  perhaps.  This 
mark  on  the  counterpane  appears  to  bear  out  that 
theory.  The  smudges  which  look  like  finger  prints 
may  have  been  merely  the  points  at  which  the  end 
of  the  pole,  or  whatever  was  attached  to  the  end  of 
the  pole,  came  in  contact  with  the  bed.  All  that 
is  perfectly  supposable.  But  you  can  see  for  your 
self  that  if  a  long  pole  were  thrust  through  the 
window,  raised  as  the  latter  was  but  a  trifle  above 
the  level  of  the  bed,  the  other  end  of  such  a  pole 
must  of  necessity  have  been  held  at  approximately 
the  same  level,  and  the  only  point  outside  the  win 
dow  from  which  it  could  have  been  so  held  is  in 
the  air,  forty  feet  above  the  bottom  of  the  court! 
The  thing  is  absurd." 

"There  is,  of  course,  the  window  of  the  apart 
ment  below,"  Baker  suggested.  "Might  not  it  have 
been  used?" 

"I  thought  of  that,"  Duvall  replied.  "You  can 
see  for  yourself  that  even  a  tall  man  standing  on 
the  window  sill  below,  would  find  not  only  his  hands, 
but  even  his  head,  far  below  the  sill  of  this  window. 
•or  could  anyone  so  support  themselves,  without 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  99 

something  to  hold  on  to.  But  all  that  is  beside  the 
question.  The  people  in  the  apartment  below  are 
friends  of  Mrs.  Morton's,  a  middle-aged  man  and 
his  wife,  with  two  young  children.  They  are  emi 
nently  respectable  people,  and  quite  above  sus 
picion." 

"Then  I  give  the  thing  up,"  exclaimed  Baker. 
"Suppose  we  have  a  talk  with  Miss  Morton." 

They  found  the  girl  lying  on  a  couch  in  the 
library,  with  her  mother  sitting  beside  her.  She 
seemed  very  weak  and  quiet,  but  in  full  possession 
of  her  faculties.  Duvall  drew  up  a  chair,  and 
asked  her  if  she  felt  able  to  tell  them  what  had  oc 
curred. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  in  a  faint  voice,  her  face  still 
showing  evidences  of  her  fright.  "I  will  try  to  tell 
you  exactly  what  happened." 

"I  had  taken  some  medicine  to  make  me  sleep, 
before  I  got  into  bed,  because  I  was  very  nervous 
and  upset.  When  mother  came  back  to  fix  the  win 
dows  I  was  already  drowsy,  and  just  remember  that 
she  turned  out  the  lights,  and  then  I  must  have 
dozed. 

"All  of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  strange  rasping  noise, 
and  I  woke  up,  with  the  feeling  that  there  was 


loo  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

someone  in  the  room.  I  don't  know  just  why  1 
felt  so  sure  of  that,  whether  it  was  merely  a  sense 
of  someone's  presence,  or  the  sound  of  someone 
moving  about  near  my  bed.  I  think,  however,  that 
it  was  the  latter. 

"The  room  was  dark,  of  course,  but  enough  light 
came  through  the  windows  to  make  a  moving  object 
distinguishable.  I  looked  about,  terribly  frightened, 
but  for  a  moment  I  saw  nothing.  The  noise  I  had 
heard  at  first  continued.  Then  without  the  least 
warning,  a  hand  seemed  to  clutch  at  the  bedclothes, 
and  I  saw  above  me,  bending  over  me,  a  terrible 
dark  face,  exactly  like  the  grinning  death's  head 
on  those  letters  I've  been  getting. 

"I  lay  perfectly  still,  frozen  with  horror,  and  in 
a  moment  the  face  had  disappeared,  and  then  I  began 
to  scream.  Right  after  that  I  sprang  from  the  bed 
and  threw  open  the  door,  and  found  mother  and  Mr. 
Baker  and  yourself  standing  in  the  hall.  That  is 
all  I  know." 

Duvall  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  puzzled. 

"Are  you  sure  you  really  saw  someone  leaning 
over  you?  Might  it  not  have  been  an  illusion,  the 
result  of  your  nervous  condition?" 

"No.    I  am  certain  someone  was  there — someone 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  101 

quite  tall,  I  should  say,  and  with  a  terrible,  evil 
face." 

"It  might  have  been  a  mask,  of  course,"  Duvall 
suggested.  "Someone  wearing  a  mask." 

"Yes.  It  might  have  been.  It  was  too  dark 
for  me  to  tell,  of  course.  But  I  remember 
the  eyes,  for  I  saw  them  distinctly.  They  were 
only  a  few  inches  from  my  own."  She  put  her 
hands  to  her  face  and  shuddered.  "It  was  ter 
rible,  terrible.  I  shall  never  sleep  in  that  room 
again." 

"There — there,  dearie,"  Mrs.  Morton  whispered 
in  a  soothing  voice.  "You  need  not  sleep  there. 
You  can  lie  right  here,  for  the  rest  of  the  night, 
and  I  will  stay  with  you  and  see  that  no  one  harms 
you." 

"That  would  be  best,  Mrs.  Morton,"  Duvall  re 
marked.  "And  to-morrow  I  suggest  that  you  and 
your  daughter  move,  temporarily  at  least,  to  another 
location.  Some  quiet  hotel,  where  you  will  not  be 
f subject  to  these  terrible  annoyances.  I  cannot 
imagine  how  it  is  done,  but  in  some  way,  some 
almost  superhuman  way,  it  seems,  someone  can 
apparently  either  enter  your  daughter's  room,  or  at 
least  reach  it  from  without,  at  will." 


102  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  Ruth,  some 
what  mystified. 

"I  mean  this,  Miss  Morton.  I  do  not  believe 
that  there  was  anyone  in  your  room  to-night.  I 
do  not  believe  that  there  has  ever  been  anyone  there. 
But  I  do  believe  that  the  two  letters  we  found 
there  were  introduced  from  without,  in  some  mys 
terious  way,  at  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  or  rod.  And 
I  think  that  what  frightened  you  so  to-night  was 
merely  a  mask,  a  grotesque  representation  of  the 
seal  used  on  the  letters,  and  pushed  toward  you  in 
some  way,  as  you  lay  in  bed  for  the  purpose  of 
terrifying  you." 

"But — why — why?"  the  girl  cried. 

"I  cannot  say.  But  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
these  people,  whoever  they  are,  that  are  trying  to 
injure  you,  may  not  intend  any  physical  violence 
at  all,  at  least  for  the  present,  but  may  be  depending 
solely  upon  the  terrible  and  insidious  power  of  sug 
gestion.  You  must  bear  this  possibility  in  mind,  and 
try  to  control  your  fears.  I  can  readily  believe  that! 
thirty  days  of  this  sort  of  persecution,  and  you 
would  be  a  physical  and  mental  wreck.  But  we 
shall  stop  it  You  need  have  no  fears  on  that 
score." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  103 

Mrs.  Morton  turned  to  her  daughter  with  a  few 
words  of  explanation. 

"Mr.  Richards,  or  rather,  Mr.  Duvall,  is  not  a 
newspaper  man,  Ruth,  but  a  detective,  who  is  trying 
to  bring  the  wretches  who  are  annoying  you  to 
justice.  I  feel  every  confidence  in  him." 

Ruth  turned  toward  Duvall  a  very  white  and 
pathetic  face. 

"I  hope  you  will  succeed,  Mr.  Duvall,"  she  said, 
in  a  weak  voice.  "I  cannot  stand  much  more." 

"I  shall,  Miss  Morton.  And  now,"  he  turned 
to  Mr.  Baker,  "I  think  we  had  better  go,  and  let 
Miss  Morton  get  some  rest.  I  will  come  here  in 
the  morning,  Mrs.  Morton,"  he  continued,  address 
ing  the  girl's  mother,  "and  we  will  consider  further 
die  question  of  your  moving  to  a  hotel.  Meanwhile 
I  do  not  think  you  have  anything  further  to  fear 
this  evening.  Good  night." 

Before  leaving  the  apartment  he  made  another 
examination  of  the  marks  upon  the  bedclothes,  then 
closed  and  fastened  both  windows,  and  locked  the 
door  of  the  room. 

Mr.  Baker  left  him  at  the  corner. 

"You  will  come  to  the  studio  to-morrow,  of 
course." 


104  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"By  all  means.  I  shall  come  down  with  Mis» 
Morton  and  her  mother.  That  will  give  us  an  op 
portunity  to  investigate  further  the  matter  of  the 
missing  photograph,  and  also  to  talk  over  that  plan 
I  had  in  mind  concerning  the  new  film  you  are  to 
show  at  the  Grand  to-morrow  night.  It  is  barely 
possible  that,  by  means  of  a  plan  I  have  in  mind, 
we  may  be  able  to  locate  the  person  or  persons 
responsible  for  all  this  trouble." 

"I  certainly  hope  so,"  said  Baker,  as  he  took  his 
leave.  "This  thing  is  getting  on  my  nerves,  too." 

Duvall  made  his  way  back  to  his  hotel,  as  much 
mystified  as  ever.  He  had  thought  for  a  moment 
of  spending  the  night  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of 
the  Mortons'  apartment,  watching  the  windows  fac 
ing  on  the  court,  but  his  experience  told  him  that 
it  would  be  useless.  The  alarm  which  Ruth  had 
made,  the  closing  of  the  windows  of  her  bedroom, 
the  locking  of  the  door,  all  made  it  highly  im 
probable  that  any  further  attempt  would  be  made 
to  annoy  her  during  the  night.  He  walked  along  in 
a  state  of  intense  preoccupation,  trying  to  discover 
some  reasonable  explanation  of  the  astonishing 
events  of  the  day. 

Once  he  had  an  impression,  a  feeling,  that  he 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  105 

was  being  followed,  but  when  he  turned  around, 
there  was  no  one  in  sight  but  a  slightly  tipsy  man, 
and  a  couple  of  young  girls,  far  down  the  street. 
He  dismissed  the  thought  from  his  mind,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  his  hotel. 

It  was  not  yet  eleven  o'clock,  and  Grace  was 
waiting  for  him  in  the  little  parlor  of  their  suite. 

"Well,  Richard,"  she  remarked,  as  he  came  in, 
"you've  had  quite  a  day  of  it." 

"Yes,  quite,"  he  replied,  throwing  himself  into  a 
chair.  "What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself?" 

"Shopping,  mostly.  I  found  it  rather  dull.  I 
went  to  a  moving  picture  this  afternoon.  Saw  your 
friend  Ruth  Morton,  She  certainly  is  a  very  beau 
tiful  girl." 

"Yes — very,"  Duvall  replied,  absently. 

"Have  you  seen  her  to-day?"  Grace  went  on,  with 
a  smile. 

"Yes.    Why?" 

"Oh — nothing.     I  was  just  thinking." 

Duvall  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  rising,  went  orer 
to  his  wife  and  kissed  her. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Grace,"  he  said,  "don't 
be  silly.  I'm  not  interested  in  motion  picture 
actresses." 


\ 


106  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"You  weren't,  I'll  admit,  nor  in  motion  pictures 
either,  until  recently,  but  perhaps  you  have  changed. 
I  could  understand  any  man  being  fascinated  by  a 
girl  like  Ruth  Morton." 

Duvall  did  not  pursue  the  question.  It  was  a  hard 
and  fast  rule  between  them  not  to  discuss  his  pro 
fessional  work.  And  Mrs.  Morton  had  made  it  a 
point  that  he  should  confide  in  no  one,  not  even  his 
wife. 

"Well,"  he  said,  picking  up  an  evening  paper, 
"I'm  not  fascinated  yet.  No  letters  for  me  to-day, 
I  suppose." 

"None."    Grace  went  on  with  her  sewing. 

They  sat  for  a  while  in  silence.  Presently  there 
came  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  a  boy  appeared, 
bearing  a  telegram.  Duvall  opened  it  carelessly, 
thinking  it  some  word  from  the  overseer  of  his 
farm.  He  sat  up  with  sudden  astonishment  as  he 
read  the  contents  of  the  message. 

"Keep  out,"  the  telegram  read,  "or  you  will  find 
that  we  can  strike  back." 

Duvall  placed  the  telegram  in  his  pocket  with  a 
frown.  So  it  appeared  that  in  spite  of  all  his  care, 
his  connection  with  the  case  was  known.  How  this 
was  possible  he  could  not  imagine.  His  first  visit 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  107 

to  the  Morton  apartment  that  day  had  been  in  the 
guise  of  a  workman.  His  subsequent  appearance 
at  the  studio,  and  later,  at  the  apartment,  had  been 
in  the  character  of  a  newspaper  man.  There  was 
only  one  explanation.  Someone  had  watched  him 
while  he  was  making  his  examination  of  Ruth  Mor 
ton's  room,  and,  subsequently,  had  followed  him 
from  the  apartment  to  his  hotel.  He  began  to 
realize  that  he  was  dealing  with  a  shrewd  brain, 
and  one  that  acted  with  almost  uncanny  quickness 
and  precision.  He  determined  that,  if  Mrs.  Morton 
and  her  daughter  changed  their  place  of  residence 
the  following  day,  he  would  do  the  same.  He  said 
nothing  of  his  intentions  to  Grace,  however.  It  was 
more  than  ever  necessary  that  he  preserve  secrecy 
in  this  case. 

"No  bad  news,  I  hope,  Richard,"  Grace  remarked, 
glancing  up  from  her  sewing. 

"No.     Nothing  serious.     Have  you  heard  any 
thing  from  home?" 

>  "Yes.  Everything  is  going  along  quite  smoothly. 
The  boy  is  well  and  happy,  and  Mrs.  Preston  says 
to  stay  as  long  as  we  want  to." 

"Well,"  said  Duvall,  rising  and  throwing  down 
his  newspaper,  "if  things  don't  go  better  than  they 


io8  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

have  been  going  to-day,  I  may  have  to  be  here  some 
time.  I've  got  a  queer  case  on,  Grace.  I'd  like 
to  tell  you  about  it,  but  I  can't.  But  it  is  quite 
unusual.  Some  features  to  it  that  I  have  never  met 
before." 

"Oh — I  wish  I  might  help  you,"  Grace  exclaimed. 
"You  know  how  often  I  have  done  so  in  the  past/' 

"I  know,  dear.  But  I  am  bound  to  secrecy,  for 
the  present  at  least.  Suppose  we  turn  in  now.  I've 
got  to  get  up  early." 

"All  right,"  Grace  said.  "But  if  you  need  my 
help,  don't  hesitate  to  ask  me.  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  I'm  having  an  awfully  slow  time." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

UVALL  made  his  appearance  at  the  Morton 
apartment  the  following  morning  in  his 
ordinary  guise.  It  was  his  intention,  when 
the  time  came,  to  disappear  from  the  case  in  his 
normal  person,  to  reappear  in  it,  later,  in  a  com 
plete  disguise.  But  that  time,  he  felt,  had  not  yet 
arrived. 

Mrs.  Morton  received  him  in  fairly  good  spirits. 
Her  daughter,  she  said,  had  had  a  restful  night,  in 
spite  of  her  terrible  experience.  When  Ruth  rose 
from  the  breakfast  table  to  greet  him,  he  was 
gratified  to  find  that  she  showed  no  great  traces 
of  the  fright  of  the  evening  before. 

"I'm  feeling  almost  myself  again,  Mr.  Duvall," 
she  said.  "I've  made  up  my  mind  not  to  let  these 
people  frighten  me  again." 

"Nothing  further  occurred  last  night,  of  course/' 
Duvall  asked. 

"Nothing,  replied  Mrs.  Morton.  "I  could 
almost  believe  the  whole  thing  a  horrible  dream." 

109 


no  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

They  did  not  touch  on  the  question  of  going  to 
a  hotel,  during  the  short  interval  that  elapsed  before 
they  set  out  for  the  studio.  Duvall  was  anxious  to 
see  Mr.  Baker.  He  hoped  sincerely  that  by  means 
of  the  photograph  which  had  been  in  the  company's 
files,  some  trace  of  the  persons  responsible  for  the 
threats  might  be  obtained. 

The  trip  to  the  studio  was  made  most  unevent 
fully,  and  Ruth  started  in  witl.  her  work  in  very 
good  spirits.  Duvall,  leaving  the  girl  with  her 
mother,  sought  out  Mr.  Baker  in  the  latter's  private 
office. 

"Hello!"  Baker  cried,  grasping  the  detective's 
hand  warmly.  "Anything  new?" 

"Not  a  thing.  How  about  the  photograph  we 
were  going  to  trace?" 

Mr.  Baker  frowned. 

"It's  a  curious  thing,"  he  replied.  "Most  curious. 
The  picture  in  question  was,  I  find,  taken  from 
the  files  by  Mr.  Moore,  our  president,  and  placed 
on  his  desk.  He  always  admired  it,  and  kept 
it  there,  along  with  a  number  of  others,  to  show 
to  persons  calling  upon  him.  Now,  it  seems,  it 
has  disappeared.  There  is  not  the  slightest  trace 
of  it." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  in 

"But,"  Duvall  objected,  "who  could  have  taken 
it?" 

"A  dozen  people.  Half  a  hundred,  I  guess.  You 
see,  Mr.  Moore's  office  is  a  big  room,  just  beyond 
here."  He  rose,  and  led  the  detective  through  a 
short  corridor.  "Here  it  is,"  he  went  on,  throwing 
open  the  door.  "This  is  where  Mr.  Moore  receives 
his  callers:  It  is  his  reception  room,  and  no  private 
papers  are  kept  here.  Those  are  all  in  the  smaller 
office  adjoining.  This  room  is  open  at  any  time. 
After  Mr.  Moore  leaves  in  the  evening,  and  he  often 
leaves  early,  anyone  might  come  in  here.  And  when 
the  offices  are  closed,  at  night,  I  suppose  any  em 
ployee  of  the  company  might  look  in,  if  he  cared  to 
do  so,  without  anyone  objecting.  You  see,  this  is 
a  sort  of  public  room.  The  inner  office  is  always 
kept  locked,  but  there  has  never  seemed  to  be  any 
good  reason  for  locking  this  one." 

"Still,  although  you  cannot  tell  who  has  taken 
the  picture,  it  seems  clear  enough  that  it  must  have 
been  removed  by  some  one  employed  in  the  studio." 

"Even  that  is  by  no  means  certain.  So  many 
people  come  here  every  day.  All  sorts  of  visitors, 
writers,  actors,  and  the  like.  After  business  hours 
I  don't  doubt  any  number  of  persons  enter  this 


H2  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

room,  to  look  at  the  pictures  of  our  great  successes 
that  hang  on  its  walls.  And  then  there  are  the 
caretakers,  the  scrub-women,  and  their  friends.  I 
find  that  they,  many  of  them,  bring  in  outsiders, 
after  working  hours,  to  look  at  the  studio,  and  the 
famous  offices.  Of  course  it  should  not  be,  and  it 
will  not  be,  in  the  future,  but  up  to  now  we  have 
rather  welcomed  people  from  outside.  It  seemed 
good  advertising." 

Duvall  followed  his  companion  back  to  his  office. 

"Then  this  clue,  like  all  the  others  in  this  singular 
case,"  he  remarked,  "seems  to  end  in  a  blind  alley." 

"It  seems  so,"  assented  Mr.  Baker,  gloomily. 
"What  was  your  plan  about  the  new  film  we're 
going  to  show  to-night?" 

Duvall  was  about  to  speak,  but  before  he  could 
do  so,  they  heard  a  slight  commotion  in  the  hall 
outside.  Then  someone  rapped  violently  on  the 
door. 

Both  he  and  Baker  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"Come  in,"  the  latter  cried. 

The  door  was  flung  open,  and  Mr.  Edwards,  the 
director,  who  was  making  the  picture  upon  which 
Ruth  Morton  was  working,  strode  hastily  into  the 
room. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  113 

"Mr.  Baker!"  he  exclaimed,  then  paused  upon 
seeing  Duvall. 

"What  is  it?"  Baker  replied. 

"Will  you  look  here  a  minute,  please  ?" 

Baker  went  up  to  him,  his  face  showing  the 
greatest  uneasiness. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  asked.  "Anything 
wrong?" 

"Yes.  Miss  Morton  was  going  through  the  scene 
in  the  first  part,  where  she  gets  the  telegram,  you 
know,  and  when  she  opened  the  message,  and  read 
it,  she  fainted." 

"Fainted?  What  was  in  the  telegram  to  make 
her  faint?" 

"Well,  it  ought  to  have  read,  'Will  call  for  you 
to-night,  with  marriage  license — Jimmy.'  That 
was  the  prop  message  we  had  prepared.  But  some 
body  must  have  substituted  another  one  for  it. 
This  is  what  she  read."  He  handed  Baker  a  yel 
low  slip  of  paper.  "I  can't  make  anything  out 
of  it." 

Baker  snatched  the  telegram  from  his  hand  with 
a  growl  of  rage,  and  read  it  hastily.  Then  he  passed 
it  over  to  Duvall. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  he  asked. 


ii4  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  gazed  at  the  telegram  with  a  feeling  of 
helpless  anger. 

"Twenty-six  days  more,"  it  read.  "When  you 
appear  in  your  new  picture  at  the  Grand  to-night, 
it  will  be  your  last.  I  shall  be  there."  The  grinning 
death's  head  seal  was  appended  in  lieu  of  a  signa 
ture,  as  before. 

A  feeling  of  resentment  swept  over  the  detective. 
It  seemed  that  these  people  acted  as  they  saw  fit, 
with  supreme  indifference  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
on  their  trail.  Never  before  had  he  felt  his  skill 
so  flouted,  his  ability  made  so  light  of.  And  yet, 
as  usual,  the  message  had  apparently  been  delivered 
in  such  a  way  as  to  make  tracing  it  impossible. 

"Still  at  it,  it  seems,"  Mr.  Baker  remarked. 
"This  thing  has  got  to  stop,  and  at  once.  I  don't 
propose  to  let  anybody  make  a  monkey  of  me." 

Duvall  turned  to  the  director,  Mr.  Edwards. 

"Who  prepared  the  original  telegram?"  he  asked 
quickly. 

Mr.  Edwards  looked  at  the  detective  in  surprise, 
evidently  wondering  what  this  stranger  had  to  do 
with  the  matter. 

"Answer,  Edwards.  It's  all  right,"  snapped  Mr. 
Baker. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  115 

"I  prepared  the  property  telegram,"  the  director 
answered. 

"When?" 

"Last  night.    I  knew  it  would  be  needed  to-day." 

"What  did  you  do  with  it?" 

"I  left  it  on  my  desk.  This  morning  I  took  it 
into  the  studio,  and  when  the  moment  arrived,  I 
gave  it  to  the  actor  who  took  it  to  Miss  Morton:" 

"Was  he  out  of  your  sight,  after  you  gave  him 
the  telegram?" 

"No.    He  took  it  and  walked  right  on  the  scene." 

"Then  he  couldn't  have  substituted  another 
for  it?" 

"No.  It  would  have  been  impossible,  unless  he 
used  sleight  of  hand." 

"Before  you  gave  the  man  the  telegram  where 
was  it?" 

"In  my  coat  pocket." 

"No  chance,  I  suppose,  of  anyone  having  taken 
it  out  and  substituting  another." 

"None." 

"Then  it  is  clear  that  the  substitution  must  have 
been  effected  between  the  time  you  left  your  office 
last  night,  and  your  arrival  here  this  morning." 

"Yes." 


n6  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Was  this  possible?" 

"Undoubtedly.  I  left  my  office  last  night  about 
six.  It  is  never  locked.  The  caretakers,  the  women 
who  clean  the  offices,  were  in  there  later,  and  from 
seven  to  nine  this  morning  it  would  also  have  been 
a  simple  matter  for  anyone  to  enter  and  make  the 
change." 

Duvall  turned  to  Mr.  Baker. 

"It's  the  same  story,"  he  said.  "Someone  who 
works  in  the  building  is  responsible  for  this  thing, 
or  else  is  able  to  bribe  one  or  more  of  your  em 
ployees  to  act  for  them.  But  we  won't  get  very 
far  looking  for  the  guilty  person,  with  several 
hundred  people  to  watch  and  no  clues  whatever  to 
go  on.  Suppose  we  go  back  to  your  office,  and  I 
will  tell  you  what  I  had  in  mind  about  this  even 
ing." 

"Is  Miss  Morton  able  to  go  on  with  the  scene?" 
Baker  asked,  as  Edwards  started  away. 

"No.  She  seems  all  broken  up.  I  don't  think 
she  is  very  well.  Her  mother  is  going  to  take  her 
home,  as  soon  as  she  feels  better." 

"Will  you  ask  Mrs.  Morton  to  wait  a  little  while, 
Mr.  Edwards?  Tell  her  that  Mr.  Duvall  will  join 
her  presently,  and  go  back  to  the  city  with  her." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  117 

Mr.  Edwards  nodded,  and  withdrew,  and  Duvall 
and  Mr.  Baker  retired  to  the  latter's  private  office. 

"What  did  you  have  in  mind  about  that  new  film 
we're  going  to  release  to-night?"  Mr.  Baker  asked. 

"I'll  explain  that  presently.  First,  tell  me  how 
long  it  will  take  you  to  make  a  short  section  of  film, 
say  enough  to  show  for  about  ten  seconds?" 

"Oh— not  long.     But  what  of?" 

"I'll  explain  that  presently.  But  you  could  make 
such  a  section  of  film,  develop  and  print  it,  and  insert 
it  in  the  picture  you  are  going  to  show  to-night, 
if  you  had  to,  couldn't  you?" 

"Yes — if  we  had  to.    But  what's  the  idea?" 

Duvall  took  a  bit  of  paper  from  his  pocket  and 
handed  it  to  Baker. 

"I  want  you  to  make  a  picture  of  this,  and  have 
it  inserted  in  the  film  at  any  convenient  point — say 
at  the  beginning  of  the  second  part.  And  you  had 
better  have  the  cutting  and  pasting-in  done  by  some 
trusted  person,  under  your  personal  supervision." 

"But,"  said  Baker,  gazing  in  amazement  at- the 
bit  of  paper  Duvall  had  handed  him.  "What's  the 
idea  of  putting  this  in  our  picture?  It  wouldn't  do 
at  all." 

"Look  at  that  telegram  Mn.  Edwards  just  gave 


n8  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

you.  The  writer  says  in  it,  'I  shall  be  there.'  Now 
if  the  person  who  is  causing  all  this  trouble  is  going 
to  be  in  the  audience  at  the  Grand  Theater  to-night, 
it  is  our  business  to  find  her.  I  say  her,  because 
I  am  convinced  the  guilty  person  is  a  woman." 

A  look  of  comprehension  began  to  dawn  upon 
Mr.  Baker's  face. 

"By  George!"  he  exclaimed.  "You  figure  out 
that  this  will  cause  her  to  disclose  herself — make 
some  sign?" 

"I  feel  certain  of  it." 

"Then  we  will  put  it  in."  He  laid  the  square  of 
paper  on  his  desk.  "I  will  have  the  section  of  film 
made  privately,  and  at  once.  I  shall  not  tell  even 
the  other  officers  of  the  company  about  it.  I  sup 
pose  they  will  give  me  the  devil,  until  after  they 
know  the  reasons  for  it,  but  then,  of  course,  it  will 
be  all  right." 

Duvall  rose  and  put  out  his  hand. 

"You  will  be  there  to-night,  of  course?" 

"Of  course.    And  you?" 

"Oh,  I'll  be  on  hand  all  right,  although  you  may 
not  recognize  me.  Good  day."  With  a  quick  hand 
shake  he  left  the  room,  and  went  to  look  for  Ruth 
and  her  mother. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  119 

He  found  them  in  the  girl's  dressing-room,  ready 
to  depart.  Ruth  was  pale  and  terrified,  showing  the 
most  intense  nervousness  in  every  word  and  move 
ment.  Mrs.  Morton,  scarcely  less  affected,  strove 
with  all  her  power  to  remain  calm,  in  order  that 
her  daughter  might  not  break  down  completely. 
Duvall  did  his  best  to  cheer  them  up. 

"You  must  not  let  this  thing  prey  on  your  mind, 
Miss  Morton,"  he  said.  "We  are  going  to  put  a 
stop  to  it,  and  that  very  soon." 

"I  hope  so,  Mr.  Duvall,"  the  girl  replied.  "If 
you  don't,  I'm  afraid  I  shall  break  down  com 
pletely." 

"I  think  we  had  better  go  home  at  once,"  Mrs. 
Morton  said.  "Ruth  is  in  no  condition  to  do  any 
more  work  to-day." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you  about  going,  Mrs.  Mor 
ton,  but  not  home."  He  lowered  his  voice,  as 
though  fearing  that  even  at  that  moment  some  tool 
of  the  woman  who  was  sending  the  letters  might 
be  within  earshot.  "I  suggest  that  you  let  me  take 
your  daughter  to  some  quiet  hotel.  You  can  follow, 
with  her  maid  and  the  necessary  baggage,  later  on. 
But  we  must  be  certain  to  make  the  change  in  such 
a  way  that  our  enemies,  who  are  undoubtedly 


120  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

watching  us,  will  not  know  of  it.  We  will  all  leave 
here  in  your  car,  giving  out  that  we  are  going  to 
your  home.  No  one  will  suspect  anything  to  the 
contrary.  On  our  arrival  in  the  city,  your  daughter 
and  I  will  leave  the  car,  and  drive  to  the  hotel  in 
a  taxicab.  When,  later  on,  you  follow  with  the 
baggage,  take  a  taxi,  sending  your  own  car  to  the 
garage.  I  know  your  confidence  in  your  chauffeur, 
but  in  this  affair  we  can  afford  to  trust  no  one. 
Your  daughter  and  yourself  can  remain  quietly  in 
the  hotel,  under  an  assumed  name,  for  a  few  days, 
until  she  recovers  her  strength.  Meanwhile,  I  have 
every  expectation  that  the  persons  at  the  bottom  of 
this  shameful  affair  will  have  been  caught." 

The  plan  appealed  to  Mrs.  Morton  at  once,  and 
she  told  the  detective  so. 

"But  where  shall  we  go  to — what  hotel?"  she 
asked. 

Duvall  leaned  over  and  whispered  in  her  ear  the 
name  of  an  exclusive  and  very  quiet  hotel  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  city. 

"Do  not  mention  the  name  to  anyone,"  he  said, 
"not  even  to  the  taxicab  driver,  when  you  leave 
the  house.  Tell  him  to  put  you  down  at  the  corner, 
a  block  away,  and  do  not  proceed  to  the  hotel  until 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  121 

you  see  that  he  has  driven  off.  And  keep  your 
eyes  on  your  maid.  I  do  not  suspect  her,  I  admit, 
but  there  seems  to  be  a  leak  somewhere,  and  we 
must  stop  it." 

Mrs.  Morton  nodded,  and  rose. 

"We  had  better  start,  then,"  she  said.  "I  under 
stand  perfectly.  Have  Ruth  register  in  the  name  of 
Bradley.  And  I  think,  Mr.  Duvall,  if  you  can  do 
so,  you  had  better  arrange  to  stop  there  as  well." 

"I  had  intended  to  do  so,"  the  detective  replied. 

"That  will  be  better."  Mrs.  Morton  led  the  way 
to  the  street. 

"You  did  not  intend  to  go  to  the  showing  of  your 
new  film  at  the  Grand  to-night,  did  you?"  Duvall 
asked  Ruth,  after  they  had  had  started  away  from 
the  studio. 

"Yes,  I  had  intended  to  go,"  she  replied.  "I 
always  go  to  my  first  releases.  But  to-night  I  do 
not  feel  able  to  do  so." 

"I  think  it  is  just  as  well.  What  you  need  most 
|now  is  rest." 

The  girl  looked  at  herself  in  a  small  mirror  affixed 
to  the  side  of  the  car. 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed.  "I  look  terrible.  These 
people  are  right,  it  seems.  Three  more  weeks  of 


122  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

this  persecution  and  my  looks  would  be  quite  gone. 
Mr.  Edwards  told  me  only  this  morning  that  he  had 
never  seen  me  look  so  bad."  There  were  tears  in 
her  eyes. 

Duvall  realized  that  she  spoke  the  truth.  The 
effect  of  the  strain  upon  her  nervous  system,  the 
brutal  shocks  of  the  past  two  days,  the  horror  of 
the  experience  of  the  night  before,  had  wrought 
havoc  with  the  girl's  beauty.  Her  face,  gray,  lined, 
haggard,  her  eyes,  heavy  and  drawn,  made  her  the 
very  opposite  of  the  radiant  creature  that  had  cre 
ated  such  a  furore  in  motion  picture  circles.  The 
methods  of  her  persecutors,  if  unchecked,  would 
beyond  doubt  wreck  her  strength  and  health  in  a 
short  time,  and  in  addition,  there  was  the  danger 
that  at  any  moment  a  physical  attack,  a  swiftly 
thrown  acid  bomb,  an  explosive  mixture  concealed 
in  an  innocent-looking  package,  might  destroy  both 
her  beauty  and  her  reason  in  one  blinding  flash. 
With  the  fear  in  her  great  brown  eyes  constantly 
before  him,  Duvall  determined  more  than  ever  to 
free  her  from  this  terrible  persecution. 

They  separated  in  the  neighborhood  of  3Oth 
Street,  Duvall  and  Miss  Morton  taking  a  taxicab 
that  stood  before  one  of  the  smaller  Fifth  Avenue 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  123 

hotels.  He  made  a  pretense  of  entering  the  hotel, 
and  did  not  summon  the  taxi  until  Mrs.  Morton's 
car  was  well  out  of  sight  up  the  Avenue.  Then  he 
instructed  the  driver  to  proceed  first  to  his  hotel. 
i  Their  stop  here  was  but  momentary.  Duvall 
went  to  his  room,  threw  a  few  articles  of  clothing 
into  his  grip,  left  a  note  for  Grace,  telling  her  that 
he  would  be  absent  for  several  days,  then  rejoined 
his  companion  and  drove  uptown  to  the  hotel  oppo 
site  the  park,  the  name  of  which  he  had  mentioned 
to  Mrs.  Morton.  He  felt  perfectly  certain  that  they 
had  not  beer1  followed. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  hotel,  he  entered  their 
names,  including  that  of  Mrs.  Morton,  upon  the 
register,  using  the  pseudonym  which  that  latter  had 
suggested.  Then,  sending  Ruth  to  her  room,  he 
asked  to  see  the  manager,  and  had  a  brief  conference 
with  him  in  private.  Immediately  thereafter,  he 
went  up  to  his  own  apartment. 

As  he  had  arranged,  it  adjoined  the  suite  selected 
for  the  Mortons.  He  tapped  lightly  on  the  commu 
nicating  door. 

"Are  you  all  right,  Miss  Morton  ?"  he  called. 

"Yes,"  came  the  girl's  voice  from  the  opposite 
side.  "All  right,  thank  you." 


CHAPTER  IX 

GRACE  DUVALL  said  good-by  to  her  hus 
band  that  morning  with  very  little  enthu 
siasm.  She  was  not  jealous  of  him,  she 
was  too  sensible  a  woman,  and  trusted  him  too  fully 
for  that.  But  his  sudden  interest  in  Ruth  Morton, 
the  charming  motion  picture  star,  seemed  rather 
incomprehensible  to  her.  Of  course  she  suspected 
he  was  working  on  a  case  which  concerned  the  girl 
although  Duvall  had  neither  affirmed  nor  denied  it. 
But  she  felt  lonely,  and  perhaps  a  trifle  out  of  sorts, 
and  found  her  solitary  breakfasts,  luncheons,  din 
ners,  a  little  trying.  So  often  before,  she  and 
Richard  had  worked  together.  Why,  she  wondered, 
did  he  so  pointedly  exclude  her  from  this  case  ?  She 
would  have  liked  to  talk  it  over  with  him. 

She  sat  rather  disconsolately  in  her  room  most 
of  the  forenoon,  and  about  one  o'clock  made  ready 
for  a  lonely  luncheon.  She  was  just  about  to  leave 
the  apartment  when  the  telephone  bell  rang.  Grace 
hastened  to  it  at  once,  hoping  that  the  call  might 
be  from  her  husband. 

124 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  125 

A  woman's  voice,  low,  firm,  determined  sounded 
in  her  ears. 

"I  want  to  speak  with  Mr.  Duvall,"  the  voice 
said. 

"Mr.  Duvall  is  out    This  is  Mrs.  Duvall." 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  Duvall.  If  you  want  to  keep 
your  husband  from  very  serious  harm,  you  had 
better  tell  him  to  steer  clear  of  Ruth  Morton's 
affairs  in  future.  A  word  to  the  wise,  you  know. 
Good  day."  The  speaker  suddenly  rang  off. 

Grace  turned  from  the  telephone,  her  brain  in  a 
whirl.  What  danger  threatened  her  husband? 
Ought  she  not  to  tell  him  of  the  message  as  soon 
as  possible,  so  that  he  might  be  on  his  guard  ?  And 
what  did  this  mysterious  reference  to  "Ruth  Mor 
ton's  affairs"  mean.  Did  it  imply  that  Richard 
was  in  any  way  involved — but  that  was  preposter 
ous.  She  put  the  thought  from  her  mind,  and  went 
down  in  the  elevator  to  a  lonely  and  not  very 
enjoyable  meal. 

As  she  left  the  dining-room,  and  passed  through 
the  lobby,  she  thought  she  saw  ahead  of  her  a 
familiar  figure.  A  moment  later  she  realized  that 
it  was  Richard  himself,  walking  very  rapidly  toward 
the  main  entrance,  his  satchel  in  his  hand.  Was  he 


126  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

leaving  the  hotel?  And  if  so,  ought  she  not  to 
make  an  attempt  to  give  him  the  message  she  had 
just  received,  before  he  did  so?  She  walked  quickly 
after  him,  but  his  pace  was  so  rapid  that  she  reached 
the  sidewalk  only  in  time  to  see  him  swing  himself 
into  a  waiting  taxi,  baggage  in  hand,  and  drive 
quickly  off.  But  what  Grace  saw,  in  addition  to 
this,  filled  her  with  queer  misgivings.  Beside  her 
husband  in  the  cab  was  a  woman —  very  beautiful 
woman,  whom  Grace  had  no  difficulty  whatever  in 
identifying  as  Ruth  Morton.  And  she  also  noticed, 
in  the  brief  moment  that  elapsed  before  the  taxi 
shot  toward  the  Avenue,  that  the  woman  seemed  to 
be  in  tears,  and  that  Richard  leaned  over  with  the 
utmost  solicitude  and  affection  and  clasped  her  hand 
in  his.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Grace  Duvall 
was  actually  jealous. 

Thoughts  of  possible  danger  to  her  husband,  how 
ever,  were  paramount  in  her  mind.  Without  an 
instant's  hesitation  she  stepped  into  a  second  taxi, 
whose  driver  was  trying  to  attract  her  attention, 
and  told  him  to  follow  the  car  containing  the  man 
and  woman  which  had  just  driven  off. 

The  chauffeur  grinned  knowingly,  nodded,  and 
started  his  car.  His  grin  drove  from  Grace's  mind 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  i2f 

her  sudden  and  unaccustomed  jealousy.  She  knew 
that  Richard  must  be  going  away  with  this  girl 
for  some  reason  connected  with  his  professional 
work.  Of  course  that  work  did  not  usually  include 
consoling  beautiful  damsels  in  distress,  but  there* 
must  be  extenuating  circumstances.  She  put  her 
unpleasant  thoughts  from  her  mind,  and  proceeded 
on  her  mission,  to  give  her  husband  the  warning 
message  she  had  just  received,  with  a  reasonably 
calm  mind. 

After  a  drive  of  some  fifteen  minutes,  she  saw 
the  cab  ahead  of  them  begin  to  slow  up,  and  ob 
served  that  her  chauffeur  did  likewise.  Presently 
the  first  cab  stopped  before  the  doors  of  a  big, 
imposing  looking  hotel,  and  Richard  and  Miss  Mor 
ton  hurriedly  entered. 

Grace  did  not  at  once  get  out.     She  knew  that 
her  husband  might  resent  her  having  followed  him, 
and  did  not  care  to  put  him  to  any  disadvantage 
by  appearing  so  unexpectedly  upon  the  scene.     She , 
waited,    therefore,    for   several   minutes,    until   hdf 
would  have  had  time  to  go  to  his  room,  and  then, 
paying  off  her  cabman,  she  strolled  quietly  into  the 
hotel  lobby. 

There   were   a   few   persons   sitting   about,   but 


128  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Richard  was  not  amongst  them.    Going  to  the  clerk 
at  the  desk,  she  asked  to  see  Mr.  Richard  Duvall. 

The  clerk  regarded  her  with  a  supercilious  stare, 
consulted  his  records  in  a  bored  way,  then  informed 
her  that  no  such  person  was  registered  there. 
.     Grace  was  completely  taken  aback. 

"But  I  saw  him  come  in,  only  a  few  moments 
ago,"  she  protested. 

"No  such  person  here,  Miss."  With  a  frigid 
smile  the  clerk  turned  away,  watching  her,  how 
ever,  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  as  though  he 
considered  her  a  suspicious  character. 

Grace  leaned  over  and  examined  the  register. 
There  were  three  entries  upon  it,  in  a  handwriting 
clearly  that  of  her  husband.  "Mrs.  Bradley  and 
maid"  the  first  entry  said.  "Miss  Bradley,"  the 
second.  They  had  been  assigned  a  suite  of  rooms. 
The  third  and  last  entry  was  "John  Bradley."  His 
room  adjoined  the  suite.  All  three  were  set  down 
as  hailing  from  Boston. 

Grace  puzzled  for  a  long  time  over  this  mysteri 
ous  series  of  entries  without  arriving  at  any  definite 
conclusion  regarding  them.  Where  was  the  so- 
called  Mrs.  Bradley?  And  why  had  her  husband 
assumed  the  same  name?  Was  he  posing  as  Ruth 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  129 

Morton's  brother,  and  if  so,  for  what  reason  ?  She 
could  not  make  head  or  tail  of  the  matter,  and 
wondered  whether  she  had  better  send  up  her  card, 
or  write  Richard  a  note  and  leave  it  for  him,  tell 
ing  of  the  warning.  While  she  was  debating  the 
matter  in  her  mind,  she  suddenly  saw  him  emerge 
from  one  of  the  elevators  at  the  opposite  side  of 
the  lobby,  and  come  toward  the  desk. 

Grace  approached  him  at  once,  glad  that  the 
matter  had  been  so  simply  arranged. 

"Richard,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "I  want 
to  speak  to  you." 

The  gentleman  she  had  addressed  regarded  her 
with  a  frown. 

"My  name  is  not  Richard,  madam,"  he  said, 
pointedly.  "I  am  John  Bradley.  You  must  have 
made  a  mistake."  With  a  polite  bow  he  passed 
no. 

Grace  was  completely  taken  aback.  She  knew 
that  between  them  there  existed  a  tacit  understand 
ing  never  to  address  each  other,  in  public,  during 
the  progress  of  a  case,  unless  requested  to  do  so 
by  some  sign.  But  she  felt  that  she  had  important 
information  to  give  her  husband,  and  then,  she  had 
been  a  trifle  jealous  and  annoyed.  The  thought 


130  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

that  she  had  committed  an  error  filled  her  witk 
chagrin.  Without  a  word,  she  left  the  hotel. 

At  a  nearby  corner  she  stepped  into  a  telephone 
booth,  and  calling  up  the  hotel,  asked  to  speak  to 
Mr.  John  Bradley.  In  a  few  moments  she  heard 
Richard's  familiar  tones. 

"This  is  Grace,"  she  said  quickly.  "I'm  sorry 
I  spoke  to  you,  just  now,  but  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
that  some  woman  telephoned  the  hotel  to-day,  and 
left  a  warning  to  the  effect  that  if  you  did  not  keep 
out  of  Miss  Morton's  affairs,  you  would  be  in  seri 
ous  danger." 

"How  did  you  know  where  I  was  ?"  Duvall  asked. 

"I  saw  you  leave  the  hotel,  and  followed  you." 

"You  should  not  have  done  so." 

"But  I  wanted  to  give  you  the  message.  I  thought 
you  ought  to  know." 

"I  understand  that,  but  I  wished  my  presence 
here  to  be  unknown  to  anyone.  You  made  a  serious 
mistake.  I  only  hope  that  no  harm  will  come 
of  it." 

"But — how  could  harm  come  of  it?" 

"You  drove  here  in  one  of  the  hotel's  regular, 
cabs,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  131 

"Then  the  people  I  am  trying  to  avoid  may  trace 
me  here,  through  the  driver  of  that  cab." 

"Oh — Richard — I'm  so  sorry.  Isn't  there  any 
thing  I  can  do?" 

"Nothing,  now,  except  to  make  no  further  attempt  * 
to  communicate  with  me  here.     Good-by." 

Grace  returned  to  her  hotel,  very  thoroughly 
dissatisfied  with  what  she  had  done.  It  seemed  to 
her  that  by  trying  to  warn  Richard  of  possible  dan 
ger,  she  might  only  have  brought  it  upon  him. 
Apparently  he  had  left  their  hotel,  to  avoid  the  very 
persons  who  had  telephoned  the  warning  message 
to  her.  She  arrived  at  the  door,  got  out  of  the 
cab  in  which  she  had  made  the  journey,  and  looked 
about,  hoping  that  the  cabman  who  had  driven  her 
uptown  might  now  be  at  his  usual  stand.  To  her 
delight,  she  saw  that  he  was. 

She  went  up  to  the  man,  a  slim,  keen  looking 
young  Irishman,  and  engaged  him  in  conversation. 

"Do  you  remember  driving  me  uptown  an  hour 
or  so  ago?"  she  asked. 

"Sure  I  do,  Miss,"  answered  the  man,  touching 
his  cap. 

"Then  please  forget  completely  where  you  went, 
will  you?"  She  handed  the  man  a  ten  dollar  bill. 


132  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"It  is  barely  possible  that  someone  may  try  to  find 
out,  through  you,  where  I  went.  Be  sure  that  you 
give  them  no  information." 

"They'll  get  nothing  out  of  me,  Miss,"  the  man 
replied,  pocketing  the  bill  with  a  pleased  grin. 

"And  if  anybody  does  try  to  find  out,  get 
their  name,  if  you  can,  and  if  not,  a  description  of 
them." 

"I'll  do  my  best,  Miss." 

"I  am  stopping  here.  My  name  is  Duvall,  Mrs. 
Duvall." 

"Very  good,  ma'am.    I'll  attend  to  it,  ma'am." 

Grace  went  up  to  her  room,  satisfied  that  she  had 
remedied  her  mistake,  and  began  to  look  through 
an  afternoon  paper  she  had  bought.  There  seemed 
nothing  better  to  do,  during  the  evening,  than  to 
go  to  the  theater.  Glancing  down  the  list  of  attrac 
tions,  she  suddenly  saw  the  name  of  Ruth  Morton, 
in  large  letters,  billed  in  a  new  feature  play,  An 
American  Beauty,  opening  at  the  Grand  Theater 
ithat  night.  She  at  once  made  up  her  mind  to  go. 
Since  yesterday,  her  interest  in  Miss  Morton  had 
perceptibly  increased.  And  in  spite  of  all,  Richard 
had  held  her  hand. 

She  was  just  finishing  her  dinner,  when  a  page 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  133 

came  through  the  room,  calling  her  name.  She  got 
tip  at  once  and  followed  him  to  the  lobby. 

"I  am  Mrs.  Duvall,"  she  said. 

The  boy  looked  up. 

"There's  a  chauffeur  outside  wants  to  see  you, 
ma'am,"  he  said,  "Tom  Leary." 

Grace  understood  at  once,  and  made  her  way  to 
the  sidewalk.  The  cab  driver  of  the  morning  stood 
near  the  entrance. 

"I  beg  pardon,  ma'am,  for  calling  you  out,"  he 
said,  "but  I  couldn't  come  in,  and  there  was  some 
thing  I  felt  you  ought  to  know." 

"What  is  it?" 

"A  lady  came  here  to  see  me  a  while  ago,"  he 
said.  "A  smallish  looking  woman,  not  pretty,  with 
light  hair.  She  had  on  a  dark  brown  suit.  Not 
Tery  good  style,  ma'am.  She  asked  me  if  I  knew 
anybody  in  the  hotel  named  Duvall.  I  said  I  did. 
I  find  she'd  been  asking  all  the  other  cabmen,  and 
had  been  to  the  desk,  before  that.  I  guess  she  must 
have  been  inquiring  for  your  husband,  ma'am." 

"Yes — yes — very  likely,"  Grace  hastily  replied. 
"What  then?" 

"Well,  ma'am,  she  then  asked  me  if  I  knew  Mrs. 
Duvall.  I  said  I  did.  Then  she  wanted  to  know 


134  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

if  I'd  driven  either  you  or  your  husband  to  any  other 
hotel  to-day,  and  I  said  I  hadn't,  but  that  I  usually 
did  drive  you,  when  you  went  anywhere.  I  took 
the  liberty  of  saying  that,  ma'am." 

"Yes.     I'm  glad  you  did.     Go  on." 

"Then  she  hands  me  five  dollars,  and  says  that 
if  I  did  drive  you  to  any  other  hotel,  I  was  to  let 
her  know  which  one  it  was." 

"Where?"  Grace  asked,  eagerly. 

The  man  fished  from  his  pocket  a  small  bit  of 
cardboard  upon  which  was  scrawled  with  a  pencil 
"Alice  Watson,  General  Delivery." 

Grace  stared  at  the  bit  of  paper  in  surprise.  Had 
she,  by  some  lucky  chance,  discovered  the  very  per 
son  for  whom  Richard  was  seeking?  Of  course 
the  name  was  probably  a  fictitious  one,  and  the  ad 
dress  "General  Delivery,"  meant  nothing,  and  yet, 
it  provided  a  clew  by  means  of  which  this  woman 
might  be  found. 

"You  have  acted  very  wisely,  Leary,"  she  said. 
"I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  send  her  any  word,  ma'am  ?" 

"I  may.  I  am  anxious  to  get  hold  of  this  woman, 
or,  to  be  more  exact,  my  husband  is.  I  will  con 
sult  with  him  first,  however.  It  may  be  that  he 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  135 

will  want  you  to  write  her  a  letter,  giving  her  some 
such  information  as  she  desires,  and  then,  by  going 
to  the  general  delivery  window  at  the  post  office 
and  watching,  identify  her  when  she  comes  for  it. 
Do  you  think  you  could  arrange  to  get  off  and  do 
this?" 

"Well,  ma'am,  even  if  I  can't  arrange  to  get  off, 
you  could  of  course  hire  my  cab,  and " 

"Of  course,"  Grace  interrupted.  "Very  well.  I 
will  let  you  know  further  about  the  matter  a  little 
later.  Meanwhile,  here  is  something  more  for  your 
trouble."  She  gave  the  man  another  bill.  "Now 
drive  me  to  the  Grand  Theater." 


CHAPTER  X 

DUVALL,  after  having  satisfied  himself  that 
Ruth  Morton  was  safely  installed  in  her 
suite  of  rooms  at  the  hotel,  came  down  to 
the  lobby  to  await  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Morton. 

The  unexpected  meeting  with  Grace  caused  him 
the  utmost  anxiety.  He  appreciated  fully  her  rea 
sons  for  having  come  to  see  him,  and  yet  he  deeply 
regretted  her  coming.  The  enemies  of  Ruth  Mor 
ton  were  far  too  clever,  too  shrewd,  he  feared, 
not  to  take  advantage  of  her  mistake,  and  by  means 
of  it,  trace  him  at  once  to  his  present  address.  A 
complete  disguise  became  an  immediate  necessity. 
He  decided  to  assume  one,  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Morton 
had  arrived. 

The  latter  came  in  about  ten  minutes  later  accom 
panied  by  Nora.  Duvall  explained  matters  to  the 
clerk  at  the  desk,  and  the  supposed  Mrs.  Bradley 
was  conducted  to  her  rooms  at  once.  Duvall  ac 
companied  her. 

They  found  Ruth  resting  quietly,  but  her  joy  at 
136 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  137 

ker  mother's  arrival  was  very  apparent.  She  feared 
to  be  left  alone,  and  seemed  to  expect  her  perse 
cutors  to  appear  from  every  closet,  through  every 
door  or  window. 

"Oh,  mother,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she  ex 
claimed. 

"I'm  glad  to  find  you  safe,"  Mrs.  Morton  re 
turned. 

"I  advise  you  to  stay  right  here  with  your 
daughter  throughout  the  evening,  Mrs.  Morton," 
said  Duvall,  as  he  made  ready  to  go  to  his  own 
room.  "Have  your  meals  sent  up.  Admit  no  one. 
Open  no  packages.  I  have  every  hope  that  before 
the  night  is  over,  I  may  have  some  most  important 
and  satisfactory  news  for  you.  I  shall  probably  not 
»ee  you  again  until  after  the  performance  to-night, 
but  if  anything  vital  occurs,  I  will  of  course  com 
municate  with  you  by  telephone.  Good-by,  and 
good  luck." 

When  he  reached  his  own  room,  he  proceeded  to 
the  business  of  divesting  himself  completely  of  all 
resemblance  to  Richard  Duvall.  It  was  clear  that 
the  persons  he  was  seeking  knew  him  by  sight,  and 
hence  his  opportunities  to  accomplish  anything 
against  them  were  very  greatly  lessened.  The 


138  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

threatening  telephone  message  received  by  Grace  did 
not  worry  him  at  all,  but  the  fact  that  those  people 
were  so  constantly  upon  his  heels  did.  He  deter 
mined  to  disappear  completely  as  Duvall,  and  re 
appear  in  the  person  of  John  Bradley,  using  all  his, 
skill  in  the  matter  of  disguise  to  create  for  himself 
a  totally  different  personality. 

Taking  a  makeup  box  from  his  grip,  he  proceeded 
first  to  give  his  dark  brown  hair  a  very  decided 
and  natural  looking  touch  of  gray,  over  the  temples 
and  at  the  sides.  Then  he  fitted  into  place  a  short 
pointed  grayish  beard,  and  a  mustache  with  waxed 
ends.  These  were  products  of  the  skill  of  one  of 
the  best  wig-makers  in  Paris,  and  so  cleverly  made 
that  they  would  defy  detection,  even  in  broad  day 
light.  A  pair  of  gold-rimmed  eyeglasses  completed 
the  facial  disguise.  Duvall  might  now  have  passed" 
anywhere  for  a  well-groomed  professional  man  of 
fifty-five  or  sixty. 

The  impression  was  heightened  by  his  frock  coat 
and  silk  hat.  He  felt  quite  sure  that,  in  his  present 
disguise,  the  plotters  against  Ruth  Morton's  welfare 
could  not  possibly  recognize  him. 

He  went  down  to  the  theater  very  early,  after  a 
hasty  dinner,  and  found  Mr.  Baker  in  the  box  office. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  139 

The  moving  picture  man  did  not  recognize  him,  of 
course,  and  Duvall,  after  drawing  him  aside,  had 
some  little  difficulty  in  convincing  him  of  his  iden 
tity.  Once  it  had  been  established,  however,  Mr. 
.Baker  conducted  him  to  a  dressing  room  behind  the 
scenes,  and  motioned  him  to  a  chair. 

"We  can  talk  here  without  being  seen  or  heard," 
he  said.  "Is  there  anything  new?" 

"Nothing.  I  have  taken  Mrs.  Morton  and  her 
daughter  to  a  hotel,  where  I  feel  sure  they  will  be 
quite  safe  from  further  annoyance.  Ruth  will  not 
come  to  the  studio  for  a  few  days,  until  we  have 
gotten  to  the  bottom  of  this  affair.  I  am  staying 
in  an  adjoining  room,  so  as  to  be  on  hand  at  once 
in  case  of  any  trouble.  I  suppose  you  have  every 
thing  fixed  for  to-night?" 

"Yes."  Mr.  Baker's  tone  was  dubious.  "I  have 
inserted  in  the  film  the  material  you  gave  me.  It 
will  appear  just  at  the  end  of  Part  I.  I  hope  it 
will  not  spoil  our  picture." 

•  "I  think  not.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  rea 
sons  for  its  introduction  become  known,  I  imagine 
it  will  give  you  a  lot  of  very  valuable  advertising." 

"Possibly  so,"  Mr.  Baker  granted.  "But  after 
all,  I  begin  to  feel  very  doubtful  as  to  the  results. 


140  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

This  woman,  whoever  she  is,  that  is  persecuting 
Miss  Morton  seems  to  be  mighty  clever.  She  may 
not  be  affected  in  the  way  you  think,  by  what  she 
sees  on  the  screen." 

"I  realize  that.  It  is  only  a  chance.  But  don't 
you  think  that,  under  the  circumstances,  it  is  a 
chance  worth  taking?" 

"Most  certainly ;  otherwise  I  should  not  have  con 
sented  to  it.  But,  as  I  say,  I  doubt  very  much  its 
success." 

"Well — we  can  only  try.     You  will  remember 
what  I  said  about  the  lights,  and  the  call  for  a 
doctor,  if  one  appears  to  be  needed." 
t     "Yes.    I  have  all  that  in  mind.    Miss  Morton  is 
not  coming  to-night,  I  presume." 

"No.    I  advised  against  it." 

"I'm  glad  of  that." 

Duvall  sat  in  silence  for  a  moment. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said  presently.  "There  is  one 
important  matter  that  I  have  overlooked.  Do  you 
give  your  employees  passes  for  these  opening  per 
formances  ?" 

;  "No — not  regularly,  that  is.  But  any  member 
of  our  organization  who  wishes  to  see  the  perform 
ance  would  of  course  be  admitted.  We  reserve  a 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  141 

section  of  the  house  for  that  purpose.  A  number 
of  our  people  usually  come  over." 

"Good!  That's  just  what  I  had  hoped  for. 
Where  is  this  section?" 

"The  last  five  rows  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
house.  But  why?" 

"Don't  you  see?  All  the  evidence  points  to  the 
fact  that  the  person  who  is  responsible  for  these 
threats  either  works  in  your  studio,  or  is  in  some 
way  able  to  gain  access  to  it  at  any  time.  Witness 
the  stolen  photograph — the  substituted  telegram  of 
this  morning.  In  the  latter  it  was  definitely  stated 
that  the  woman  in  the  case  would  be  in  the  audience 
to-night.  I  am  hoping  sincerely  that  she  will  not 
have  the  cleverness  to  enter  as  one  of  the  public, 
but  will  come  in  as  one  of  your  people,  and  sit  in 
the  section  of  the  house  reserved  exclusively  for 
your  employees.  In  that  event,  I  think  we  shall 
discover  who  she  is  beyond  a  doubt." 

"I  certainly  hope  so,"  sighed  Mr.  Baker.  "This 
thing  has  got  us  all  up  in  the  air.  Our  President 
had  a  long  conference  with  me  this  afternoon  about 
Miss  Morton.  He  seems  to  think  she  is  going  to 
pieces,  and  recommended  trying  to  get  Joan  Clayton 
away  from  the  Multigraph  people  to  take  her  place. 


142  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

He  says  that  she  is  losing  her  good  looks.  I  told 
him  nothing,  of  course,  but  it  worried  me  a  lot.  I 
am  very  fond  of  Ruth  Morton,  and  I  don't  want  to 
see  her  lose  her  place." 

"She  won't  lose  it,"  asserted  Duvall.  "When  we 
get  through,  her  position  with  your  company  will 
be  stronger  than  it  has  ever  been  before.  Shall  we 
go  out  in  the  lobby  and  take  a  look  at  the  crowd  as 
it  comes  in?" 

Mr.  Baker  assented,  and  the  two  men  stationed 
themselves  near  the  box  office. 

Without  appearing  to  do  so,  Duvall  inspected  the 
various  members  of  the  incoming  crowd.  His 
scrutiny  was  careful,  comprehensive,  but  the  only 
person  he  recognized  was  Grace. 

That  she  also  recognized  him  he  knew.  She  had 
seen  the  disguise  he  wore,  many  times,  and  was 
familiar  with  it.  She  did  not  betray  herself,  how 
ever,  by  so  much  as  a  glance,  but  proceeded  at  once 
to  her  seat. 

When  the  moment  arrived  for  the  beginning  of 
the  performance,  the  house  was  filled.  Duvall,  with 
Baker  at  his  side,  stationed  himself  back  of  the  left- 
hand  section  of  seats,  so  that  the  rows  reserved 
for  the  employees  of  the  company  were  directly  in 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

front  of  him.  He  occupied  himself,  during  the  in 
terval  before  the  lights  were  switched  off,  by  noting 
carefully  all  the  women  in  the  last  five  rows,  but 
none  of  them  attracted  his  attention  particularly. 

Soon  the  performance  began.  Ruth  Morton,  the 
American  Beauty,  stepped  upon  the  screen,  a  com 
pelling  vision  of  loveliness.  The  audience  followed 
eagerly  her  exciting  adventures.  Duvall  himself,  in 
spite  of  his  preoccupation,  found  himself  absorbed 
by  the  charm  and  action  of  the  picture.  In  the  open 
ing  scenes,  Ruth  appeared  as  a  poor  girl,  trying  to 
make  her  way  in  the  great  world  of  the  theater. 
Her  struggles,  her  sacrifices,  her  failures,  were 
almost  vividly  portrayed.  When  at  last,  through  her 
marvelous  beauty,  she  succeeded  in  gaining  recog 
nition  from  the  critics,  he  applauded  with  those 
about  him,  completely  under  the  spell  of  her  charm. 

The  final  scene  of  the  first  part  was  a  view  of 
Ruth,  as  Catherine  Grey,  the  American  Beauty, 
refusing  the  dubious  offers  made  her  by  a  rich  New 
Yorker.  With  a  faith  in  herself  by  no  means  as 
sumed,  Catherine  turned  from  his  picture  of  luxury, 
of  steam  yachts,  of  country  estates,  of  unlimited 
bank  accounts,  with  a  smile  which  showed  her  con 
fidence  in  her  beauty,  her  talents.  The  audience 


144  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

watched  her,  spellbound,  as  she  stood  on  the  side 
walk  before  the  theater,  looking  with  grave  inscru 
table  eyes  after  the  costly  limousine  that  had  just 
driven  away  without  her.  In  no  picture  heretofore 
taken  of  the  girl  had  she  appeared  to  better  advan- 
'  tage.  Every  line  of  her  lovely  face  seemed  respon 
sive  to  the  effect  of  the  lighting,  the  situation,  the 
motives  which  inspired  her.  The  audience  drew 
itself  back,  ready  to  register  its  approval  of  the  first 
part  of  the  film  with  hearty  applause. 

And  then,  something  happened.  The  lovely,  smil 
ing  face  of  Ruth  Morton  faded  from  view,  and  in 
its  place  came  with  brutal  suddenness  the  picture 
of  a  huge  grinning  death's  head,  amazing  in  its  sug 
gestion  of  horror.  The  audience  sat  in  utter  silence, 
wondering  what  could  be  the  reason  for  this  sudden 
apparition.  Beneath  the  death's  head  appeared  in 
huge  letters  the  words: 

"We  know  the  woman." 

The  thing  had  come  as  a  complete  surprise.  The 
tension  throughout  the  house  was  electric.  Duvall 
saw  his  wife  rise  from  her  seat  on  the  aisle,  a  few 
rows  away,  and  come  quickly  to  the  rear  of  the 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  145 

house.     She,  at  least,  realized  that  a  moment  of 
importance  had  arrived. 

And  then,  without  warning,  the  stillness  of  the 
theater  was  broken  by  a  sudden  cry,  and  a  woman, 
sitting  some  three  rows  from  where  Duvall  stood, 
but  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  aisle  from  the  seats 
indicated  by  Mr.  Baker,  rose  to  her  feet,  turned, 
and  fell  heavily  against  the  back  of  the  seat  ahead 
of  her.  At  almost  the  same  moment  the  lights 
were  switched  on,  and  a  voice  was  heard  calling. 
"Is  there  a  doctor  in  the  house  ?" 

It  was  Mr.  Baker,  and  Duvall,  who  stood  beside 
him,  sprang  forward  at  once. 

"I  am  a  doctor,"  he  cried,  and  approached  the 
place  where  the  woman  sat. 

"Can  I  be  of  any  assistance?"  Grace  asked.  "I 
am  a  trained  nurse." 

"Yes,"  replied  Duvall,  quickly.  "Get  this  woman 
to  the  ladies'  dressing  room  at  once." 

Grace  sprang  forward.  There  was  a  bustle 
among  the  audience,  a  sudden  rising,  a  craning  of1 
necks.  Everyone  seemed  to  be  looking  for  the  per 
son  who  had  uttered  the  sudden  cry.  Before  any 
one  fully  realized  what  had  happened,  Grace  had 
reached  the  fainting  woman's  side,  and  supporting 


146  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

her  with  an  arm  about  her  waist,  was  leading  her 
toward  the  rear  of  the  house. 

Almost  at  once  the  theater  became  dark,  and  the 
second  part  of  the  picture  was  flashed  upon  the 
screen.  The  lovely  face  of  Ruth  Morton  once  more 
greeted  the  eyes  of  the  audience  The  interruption 
had  occupied  less  than  a  minute. 

Duvall,  standing  at  the  entrance  to  the  aisle, 
watched  Grace  come  quickly  toward  him,  supporting 
the  fainting  woman.  The  latter  seemed  completely 
overcome,  and  Grace  was  obliged  almost  to  carry 
her. 

"Keep  her  there,  in  the  dressing  room,  until  I 
return,"  he  said  in  a  quick  whisper.  Then  with  a 
nod  to  Mr.  Baker,  who  stood  close  by,  he  went 
toward  the  street.  A  taxicab  drew  up,  awaiting  a. 
fare.  Duvall  signaled  to  it. 

"Wait  for  me  here,"  he  said  to  the  driver.  "I 
will  be  back  in  a  moment."  Then  he  re-entered  the 
theater. 

x>    Grace  meanwhile  had  conducted  the  woman  to  the 
ladies'  dressing  room,  and  placed  her  upon  a  couch. 

She  was  a  frail,  insignificant  looking  creature, 
not  at  all  the  sort  of  person  one  would  associate 
with  threats  of  the  kind  that  Ruth  Morton  had  been 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  147 

receiving.  She  appeared  to  be  greatly  ashamed  of 
her  sudden  collapse,  and  kept  insisting,  in  spite  of 
her  evident  weakness,  that  she  was  quite  all  right 
again,  and  wanted  to  go. 

i  Grace,  however,  paid  no  attention  to  her  protes 
tations,  but  insisted  that  she  remain  quiet. 

"The  doctor  will  be  here  in  a  moment,"  she  said. 
"You  must  wait  quietly  until  he  comes." 

The  woman,  however,  seemed  determined  to 
leave,  and  it  was  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  Grace 
welcomed  her  husband's  return. 

Duvall  came  in  hurriedly,  as  he  did  so  taking  a 
small  brown  bottle  from  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"Get  me  a  glass  of  water,"  he  said  to  the  negro 
maid.  The  woman  brought  one  at  once. 

Duvall  took  a  tablet  from  the  bottle  and  placed 
it  in  the  glass,  stirring  the  water  about  with  the 
end  of  a  leadpencil  until  the  tablet  was  dissolved. 
Then  he  went  up  to  the  woman  on  the  couch. 

"Here — drink  this,"  he  commanded.  "It  will 
quiet  your  nerves." 

The  woman  took  the  glass,  her  eyes  regarding 
him  with  suspicion.  Duvall,  in  his  character  of  a 
physician,  turned  aside,  and  addressed  a  few  words 
to  Grace,  fearing  that  in  some  way  the  woman 


148  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

might  succeed  in  recognizing  him.  As  a  result  both 
failed  to  see  that  instead  of  drinking  the  medicine 
he  had  given  to  her,  the  girl  swiftly  poured  it  upon 
the  floor.  When  he  again  turned  to  her,  she  held 
the  empty  glass  in  her  hand. 

Duvall  took  it  from  her,  and  handed  it  to  Grace. 

"Come  with  me,  Miss,"  he  said.  "I  will  see  you 
home." 

"It  isn't  necessary,"  the  woman  gasped.  "I — I'm 
all  right  now." 

"You  have  had  a  severe  shock,  Miss.  As  a  physi 
cian,  it  is  my  duty  to  see  that  you  arrive  home 
safely.  I  have  already  engaged  a  cab.  Come." 
He  took  the  woman  by  the  arm  and  in  spite  of  her 
objections,  raised  her  from  the  couch. 

Suddenly  her  opposition  vanished.  She  seemed 
glad  of  his  assistance,  and,  leaning  on  his  arm,  made 
her  way  from  the  theater.  Duvall  was  in  high 
spirits.  He  fully  believed  that  his  plan  had  suc 
ceeded,  that  the  woman  at  his  side  was  the  one  who 
was  responsible  for  the  threats  which  had  made 
Ruth  Morton  so  wretched  for  the  past  few  days. 

The  cab  that  he  had  engaged  stood  waiting  at 
the  door.  He  put  the  woman  inside.  She  seemed 
very  weak  and  helpless. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  149 

"Drive  to  the Hotel,"  Duvall  called  to  the 

chauffeur,  then  entered  the  cab  and  seated  himself 
at  the  woman's  side.  He  saw  Mr.  Baker  standing 
upon  the  sidewalk,  and  nodded.  Then  they 
drove  off. 

The  woman  lay,  in  a  state  of  apparent  collapse, 
in  one  corner  of  the  cab,  her  face  pale,  her  eyes 
closed.  Duvall,  inspecting  her  as  well  as  he  could 
in  the  faint  light,  began  to  feel  grave  doubts  as  to 
whether  after  all  he  had  been  successful  in  his  ruse. 
She  seemed  so  little  the  type  of  woman  he  would 
have  associated  with  the  brutal  campaign  of  terror 
that  had  been  directed  against  Miss  Morton. 

She  clutched  a  black  leather  satchel  tightly  in  one 
hand.  Duvall  regarded  it  with  interest.  If  he  was 
right  in  his  assumption  that  this  was  the  woman  he 
sought,  it  seemed  highly  probable  that  within  that 
satchel  lay  evidence  that  might  convict  her.  At 
least  there  would  be  some  clue  as  to  who  she  was, 
and  that  in  itself  would  be  valuable. 

The  woman  seemed  to  grow  weaker  and  weaker. 
Her  closed  eyes,  her  slow  but  regular  breathing, 
indicated  that  the  drug  he  had  given  her  had  begun 
to  take  effect.  Stealthily  Duvall's  hand  reached 
toward  the  small  black  satchel.  With  eager  fingers 


150  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

he  pressed  the  catch,  and  as  the  bag  opened,  began 
to  draw  out  us  contents. 

The  woman,  however,  seemed  far  less  helpless 
than  he  had  supposed.  She  pulled  the  satchel 
toward  her,  her  fingers  seeking  to  close  it.  Duvall 
discontinued  his  efforts  at  once.  It  would  be  time 
enough,  he  felt,  when  they  had  reached  the  hotel, 
and  the  woman  had  been  safely  conducted  to  a  room 
there.  He  had  made  his  plans  carefully  in  advance, 
and  arranged  matters  with  the  hotel  manager. 
There  was  nothing  to  do,  now,  but  wait. 

Presently  the  woman,  who  had  been  regarding 
him,  unnoticed,  from  beneath  lowered  lids,  uttered 
a  groan,  as  though  in  great  pain,  and  clutched  her 
breast.  Duvall  turned  to  her  at  once,  speaking  in  a 
soothing  voice,  and  assuming  a  professional 
manner. 

"Is  anything  wrong,  Miss  ?  I  had  hoped  you  were 
feeling  better." 

"No,  doctor.    I'm  not.    I  feel  terrible — terrible." 

"In  what  way?" 

"My — rny  heart.  It  is  in  awful  shape.  I  need 
some  stimulant.  The — the  medicine  you  gave  me 
made  me  feel  very  ill."  I 

Her  words  surprised  Duvall.    He  had  given  her 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  151 

a  simple  drug,  the  effect  of  which  should  have  been 
to  make  her  drowsy,  to  quiet  her  nerves.    That  she 
had  not  taken  it,  he  of  course  did  not  know.     His 
,.  greatest  fear  had  been  that  she  would  refuse  to 
lenter  the  cab  with  him.    Now  that  she  had  done  so, 
he  was  prepared  to  use  even  force,  if  necessary,  to 
retain  her  in  his  custody  until  he  had  either  obtained 
the  evidence  he  desired,  or  forced  from  her  a  con 
fession.     What  he  particularly  hoped  to  find  was 
the  seal  with  which  the  death's  head  impression  had 
been  made.     He  felt  certain  that,  if  this  was  the 
Woman  he  sought,  she  would  have  this  seal  some 
where  about  her  person.    It  was  far  too  significant 
a  bit  of  evidence  to  be  left  lying  about  at  home. 

But  there  was  always  the  chance  that  this  woman, 
who  had  been  so  instantly  affected  by  the  ghastly 
apparition  on  the  screen,  the  significant  words  be 
neath  it,  might  not,  after  all,  be  the  right  one,  the 
one  he  sought.  There  was  always  the  possibility 
that  the  real  criminal,  although  present  in  the  audi- 
/tence,  had  made  no  sign,  and  that  his  companion 
in  the  cab  might  be  entirely  innocent.  As  he  had 
told  Baker,  it  was  a  chance — a  long  chance,  yet 
something  seemed  to  say  to  him  that  he  had  made 
no  mistake  in  taking  it. 


152  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

i 

Now,  however,  a  new  situation  had  arisen  to 

upset  his  plans.  His  prisoner,  instead  of  having 
been  quieted  by  the  drug  he  had  administered,  was 
apparently  becoming  more  and  more  agitated  and 
nervous  every  minute.  Her  groans,  as  she  lay 
huddled  up  in  the  corner  of  the  cab,  puzzled  him, 
filled  him  with  vague  alarm.  Was  it  possible  that 
she  had  a  weak  heart?  Had  the  sedative  he  had 
given  her,  harmless  as  he  knew  the  dose  would  be 
to  a  normal  person,  affected  her  in  so  unfavorable 
a  way?  He  took  her  wrist  in  his  hand,  and  felt  her 
pulse.  It  was  quick,  indicative  of  nervous  excite 
ment,  but  certainly  not  weak. 

"Oh — doctor,  doctor,  won't  you  please  give  me 
something  to  make  me  feel  a  little  better?"  the 
woman  gasped.  "It's  my  heart,  I  tell  you.  I — I 
can't  breathe.  I'm  suffocating.  I  must  have  some 
thing  at  once — some  aromatic  spirits  of  ammonia 
— some  brandy — anything,  to  make  me  feel  a  little 
better." 

Her  earnestness,  her  trembling  voice,  her  excited11 , 

^ 

manner,  all  served  to  convince  Duvall  that  his  com 
panion  was  really  in  need  of  a  stimulant  of  some 
sort.  He  decided  to  humor  her.  A  dose  of  aromatic 
spirits,  he  reflected,  could  do  no  harm,  and  would 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  153 

doubtless  serve  to  lessen  her  excitement.  He 
leaned  out,  and  directed  the  driver  of  the  cab  to 
stop  at  the  nearest  drug  store. 

"Oh — thank  you — thank  you,"  the  woman 
gasped.  "Tell  him  to  hurry,  please."  Then  col 
lapsing  in  the  corner  of  the  seat,  she  closed  her 
eyes  and  sat  so  silent  that  Duvall  began  to  wonder 
whether  she  had  lost  consciousness. 

The  taxicab,  meanwhile,  had  drawn  up  in  front 
of  a  drug  store  on  Sixth  Avenue.  Duvall  took  a 
look  at  the  apparently  unconscious  woman,  then 
spoke  quickly  to  the  chauffeur. 

"Stay  here  until  I  return,"  he  said.  "Don't  go 
away  under  any  circumstances.  I  shall  be  gone  but 
a  moment." 

The  man  nodded. 

"I'll  stay,  sir,"  he  said.     "Don't  worry." 

Duvall  went  quickly  into  the  store.  Going  up  to 
the  soda  counter,  he  instructed  the  clerk  to  prepare 
him  a  dose  of  aromatic  spirits  of  ammonia  as 
quickly  as  possible.  While  waiting  for  it,  he 
watched  the  cab  through  the  store  window. 

The  preparation  of  the  dose  required  but  a  few 
moments.  Then,  explaining  matters  to  the  clerk, 
Duvall  took  the  glass  in  his  hand  and  went  back 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

to  the  cab.  He  smiled  to  himself  at  his  anxiety, 
as  he  passed  through  the  door.  The  woman  was 
far  too  ill,  he  reflected,  to  entertain  any  thoughts 
of  escape. 

"Here,"  the  detective  said,  opening  the  door  of 
the  cab.  "Drink  this." 

There  was  no  response.  Duvall  stuck  his  head 
into  the  vehicle  with  some  misgivings.  Then  he 
experienced  a  sudden  and  most  mortifying  shock. 
There  was  no  fainting  woman  huddled  against  the 
cushions  in  the  far  corner.  There  was  no  woman 
at  all.  The  cab  was  empty! 


CHAPTER  XI 

RICHARD    DUVALL   had    had    charge   of 
many  unusual  and  intricate  cases,  in  the 
past,  and  he  prided  himself  upon  the  fact 
that  he  had  handled  them  with  skill  and  discretion, 
and  that  the  results  which  had  followed  had  been 
both  quick  and  decisive.     But  in  all  his  career  he 
had  not,  so  far  as  he  could  remember,  ever  felt 
quite  so  chagrined,  as  he  did  when  he  threw  open 
the  door  of  the  cab  and  found  that  the  woman  he 
had  left  there  had  disappeared. 

The  fault  was  his,  he  knew  that  well — entirely 
and  unmistakably  his.  This  woman  was  evidently 
far  more  clever,  more  subtle  than  he  had  imagined. 
He  realized  now  that  she  had  in  all  probability  not 
taken  the  drug  he  had  given  her  in  the  dressing 
room  of  the  theater,  that  she  had  seen  his  effort 
to  examine  the  contents  of  her  handbag,  that  her 
weakness,  her  call  for  a  stimulant  of  some  sort  had 
been  but  clever  acting,  and  that  she  had  purposely 
sent  him  into  the  drug  store  in  order  that  she  might 

155 


156  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

escape.  He  blamed  himself,  utterly  and  completely, 
for  his  amazing  stupidity  in  not  realizing  that  the 
woman,  instead  of  ordering  the  cabman  to  drive 
away,  had  only  to  slip  out  through  the  door  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  vehicle,  and  vanish  in  the  dark 
ness. 

And  this  she  had  quite  evidently  done.  The  door 
of  the  cab  opposite  him  stood  open.  No  doubt  she 
had  purposely  refrained  from  closing  it,  fearing 
that  the  click  of  the  lock  might  attract  the  driver's 
attention.  The  latter  with  his  eyes  following 
Duvall,  as  the  detective  entered  the  store,  had  re 
mained  serenely  unconscious  of  his  passenger's 
movements,  her  clever  escape. 

At  least  three  or  four  minutes  had  elapsed.  Du 
vall  glanced  up  and  down  the  street,  but  no  sight 
of  the  vanished  woman  greeted  his  anxious  gaze. 
She  had  had  ample  time  to  reach  the  next  corner, 
and  disappear  in  the  darkness.  Thoughts  of  pur 
suit  entered  his  mind,  but  he  realized  at  once  the 
f  ruitlessness  of  such  an  attempt.  His  captive  might 
have  fled  east  or  west,  at  either  of  the  streets  north 
or  south  of  where  he  stood.  Or  she  might  have 
entered  some  restaurant,  some  motion  picture 
house,  or  other  convenient  doorway  along  the  Ave- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  157 

nue.  She  might  even  have  boarded  a  Sixth  Avenue 
car,  or  hailed  a  passing  cab.  He  looked  up  at  the 
chauffeur,  who  still  sat  at  his  steering  wheel,  totally 
unaware  of  the  flight  of  one  of  his  passengers. 

"The  woman  has  gone,"  Duvall  exclaimed,  nod 
ding  toward  the  vacant  cab. 

The  man  turned  in  complete  surprise.  He  seemed 
scarcely  able  to  credit  the  evidence  of  his  senses. 

"I — why  sir — she  was  here  just  a  moment  ago, 
sir,"  he  gasped,  gazing  into  the  interior  of  the  cab 
as  though  he  expected  its  recent  occupant  to  sud 
denly  materialize  in  the  flesh. 

"She  got  out  on  the  other  side,  while  I  was  in 
the  store,"  Duvall  remarked,  shortly,  then  taking  an 
electric  searchlight  from  his  pocket,  made  a  thor 
ough  examination  of  the  interior  of  the  cab.  He 
scarcely  expected  to  find  anything,  although  it 
flashed  through  his  mind  that  .the  woman,  in  her 
hurry  to  escape,  might  have  left  her  bag,  her  gloves, 
or  something  that  might  afford  him  a  clue  to  her 
identity. 

At  first  he  saw  nothing.  Then,  as  his  eyes  be 
came  more  accustomed  to  the  brilliant  glare  of  the 
electric  torch,  he  observed  a  bit  of  white  cardboard 
lying  on  the  floor.  It  looked  like  a  visiting  card, 


158  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

and  he  snatched  it  up,  devoutly  hoping  that  it  had 
fallen  from  the  woman's  bag  during  the  attempt  he 
had  made  to  rifle  it. 

Under  the  light  of  his  pocket  lamp  he  made  a 
quick  examination  of  his  find.  It  proved  a  lament 
able  disappointment.  It  was  in  fact  a  visiting  card, 
or  to  be  more  correct,  the  torn  half  of  one,  but 
what  was  engraved  upon  it  afforded  him  not  the 
least  clue  to  either  the  identity  or  the  address  of 
the  woman  he  sought.  On  the  first  line  were  the 
words,  "Miss  Mar" — then  came  the  torn  edge  of 
the  card.  On  the  second  line  there  was  but  the 
figure  i,  and  then  the  break. 

Was  the  name  so  tantalizingly  suggested  by  the 
letters  before  him  "Miss  Mary"  something  or  other? 
Or  "Miss  Margaret?"  Or  was  it  "Miss  Martin," 
or  "Miss  Marvin,"  or  "Miss  Marbury,"  or  any  one 
of  a  score  of  other  names  beginning  with  the  letters 
"Mar?"  And  what  was  the  missing  address?  What 
numbers  followed  the  figure  I,  on  that  part  of  the 
'card  that  had  been  torn  off?  And  what  was  the 
name  of  the  street  ?  He  realized  at  once  that  while 
what  he  had  found  might,  under  certain  circum 
stances,  act  as  a  suggestion,  it  would  not  serve  to 
get  him  very  far,  unless  reinforced  by  other  and 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  159 

more  definite  evidence.  He  thought  for  a  moment 
of  securing  from  Mr.  Baker  a  list  of  the  women 
employees  of  the  studio.  It  was  true,  he  remem 
bered,  that  his  prisoner  had  not  been  seated  in  that 
particular  section  of  the  house  reserved  for  the  . 
company's  employees,  but  that  might  have  readily 
come  from  the  fact  that  the  section  was  fully  occu 
pied  when  she  arrived.  Then,  as  more  names  be 
ginning  with  "Mar"  occurred  to  him,  the  futility 
of  the  idea  became  apparent.  Apart  from  any  pos 
sible  number  of  Marys,  and  Margarets  there  were 
Martha,  Maria,  Marcia,  Marian,  Marcella — others 
perhaps.  Of  course  he  would  be  able  to  recognize 
the  woman,  if  he  saw  her,  but  she  would  be  too 
clever  to  return  to  her  place  in  the  studio  the  fol 
lowing  day,  if  by  any  chance  she  worked  there, 
knowing,  as  she  must  inevitably  know,  that  she 
would  be  identified  at  once. 

Still,  there  was  of  course  the  chance  that  Mr. 
Baker  might  have  recognized  her.  He  presumably 
knew  all  the  employees  of  his  company  by  sight. 
Duvall  got  into  the  cab  with  a  mortifying  sense  of 
having  made  a  very  foolish  blunder,  and  directed 
the  cabman  to  drive  him  back  to  the  Grand  Theater. 
jj  Mr.  Baker  was  waiting  in  the  lobby  when  the 


160  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

detective  arrived,  and  at  a  nod  from  the  latter  the 
two  men  retired  to  the  dressing  room  in  which  they 
had  had  their  previous  consultation.  The  moving 
picture  man's  face  was  eager,  expectant,  as  he 
waited  for  Duvall  to  speak,  and  the  latter  felt  his 
chagrin  increase  by  the  moment. 

When  he  had  at  last  finished  his  account  of  the 
affair,  Mr.  Baker  looked  exceedingly  grave. 

"Too  bad — too  bad,"  he  muttered,  "to  have  had 
her  in  our  hands  like  that,  and  then,  to  lose  her." 

"Did  you  ever  see  the  woman  before?"  Duvall 
questioned. 

"No.  Of  course  she  might  be  in  our  employ, 
but  I  doubt  it,  although  I  could  not  be  expected 
to  know  by  sight  every  girl  who  works  in  the  plant. 
There  are  stenographers,  film  cutters  and  pasters, 
dozens  of  others,  that  I  do  not  engage  directly, 
and  never  see.  Let  me  look  at  the  card." 

Duvall  handed  the  torn  bit  of  pasteboard  to  him. 

"Not  much  to  go  on,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"No.     Not  much." 

"Of  course,"  the  detective  went  on,  "the  evening 
has  not  been  entirely  wasted.  We  know  the  woman 
by  sight,  and  that  is  a  great  deal.  As  for  her  name, 
I  have  made  a  careful  study  of  this  card,  and  as- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  161 

suming  it  to  have  been  of  the  usual  length  in  com 
parison  to  its  width,  the  name  following  the  'Miss/ 
if  it  was  a  first  name,  points  to  a  very  short  one, 
such  as  Mary,  and  not  a  long  one,  such  as 
Margaret." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?" 

"Simply  enough.  The  entire  name  would  of 
course  have  been  placed  in  the  center  of  the  card, 
which  was,  it  appears,  torn  almost  exactly  in  half. 
On  the  left-hand  side,  which  we  have  in  our  pos 
session,  there  are,  in  the  word  'Miss,'  four  letters, 
and  in  'Mar'  three,  or  seven  in  all.  We  should 
correspondingly  expect  to  find  seven  letters  on  the 
right  or  missing  half  of  the  card.  But  were  the  first 
name  Margaret,  or  Marcella,  which  each  contain 
eight  letters,  or  five  to  be  added  to  the  'Mar'  we 
already  have,  it  would  leave  but  two  letters  for  the 
woman's  last  name,  and  names  of  that  length,  or 
rather  shortness,  are  so  rare  as  to  be  negligible. 
It  is  far  more  probable  that  we  have  but  to  add  a 
'y'  to  the  'Mar/  or  one  letter,  leaving  six  for  the 
last  name.  This  would  give  us  'Miss  Mar-y  Gor 
don/  with  the  name  evenly  divided  by  the  tear.  Or, 
if  by  chance,  the  first  name  is  such  a  one  as  Marian, 
containing  six  letters,  we  need  add  but  the  'ian/ 


162  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

or  three  letters,  to  the  left-hand  side  of  our  card, 
leaving  us  four  letters  for  the  last  name.  Thus, 
Miss  Marian  Kent.  The  full  name  on  the  card 
should  have  just  fourteen  letters,  provided  the  card 
lis,  as  I  conclude,  torn  exactly  in  half. 

"Why  do  you  conclude  that?" 

"Because  visiting  cards  of  this  sort  are  usually 
made  in  standard  sizes.  I  happen  to  have  a  woman's 
card — Miss  Morton's,  in  fact,  in  my  pocket.  Its 
width  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  torn  card,  and  if 
the  latter  was  of  the  same  length,  you  can  readily 
see  that  it  was  torn  exactly  in  half."  He  took  a 
card  from  his  wallet  and  laid  the  torn  bit  of  paste 
board  upon  it.  Their  widths  were  identical.  The 
whole  card  was  just  twice  the  length  of  the  torn 
one. 

"That  is  a  most  interesting  deduction,"  Baker 
exclaimed.  "What  use  can  we  make  of  it?" 

"I  will  tell  you.     You  have  your  car  here,  have 
you  not  ?" 
;     "Yes." 

"Then  I  suggest  that  we  run  down  to  the  studio 
at  once,  get  your  list  of  employees,  examine  the 
name  of  every  woman  upon  it,  and  see  if  we  can 
not  find  one  of  fourteen  letters,  including  the  'Miss,' 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  163 

of  which  the  first  name  begins  with  'Mar.'  The 
chances  are  that  we  will  be  able  to  locate  the  name 
immediately." 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Baker  exclaimed,  rising  in  some  ex 
citement,  "but,  as  you  have  before  said,  the  woman, 
if  she  works  for  us,  will  not  dare  to  appear  in  the 
morning,  for  fear  that  she  will  be  recognized  at 
once." 

"That  is  true,  but  you  will  no  doubt  have  on 
your  books  her  home  address.  If  we  hurry,  we 
can  get  there  and  back  by  midnight,  and  we  may 
be  able  to  place  our  hands  on  the  woman  before 
she  can  have  time  to  escape." 

Mr.  Baker  reached  the  door  in  two  steps. 

"Come  along,"  he  said.  "We'll  burn  up  the 
roads." 

The  two  men  said  little,  during  their  long  ride. 
When  they  reached  the  entrance  to  the  dark  and 
silent  studio  building,  only  the  night  watchman  ap 
peared  to  greet  them. 

Inside  the  building,  however,  there  were  more 
signs  of  life.  Some  stage  carpenters  were  busy, 
working  overtime  on  a  piece  of  scenery.  In  the 
developing  and  drying  departments  were  also  signs 
of  activity.  Mr.  Baker  led  the  way  to  his  office. 


164  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"It  happens,"  he  said,  "that  as  I  am  obliged  to 
O.  K.  the  payroll  each  week,  I  have  a  list  of  our 
employees  in  my  desk."  As  he  spoke,  he  took  his 
keys,  opened  a  drawer,  and  drew  out  a  small  red 
book. 

"Here  is  the  list,  with  the  home  addresses,"  he 
said.  "How  shall  we  go  to  work?" 

"Read  me  all  the  women's  names,  in  which  the 
first  name  begins  with  'Mar/  Duvall  said.  I  will 
put  them  down  on  a  sheet  of  paper."  He  drew  a 
pad  toward  him,  took  out  his  pencil,  and  the  two 
set  to  work. 

When  they  had  at  last  reached  the  end  of  the 
book,  both  Duvall  and  Mr.  Baker  were  surprised 
to  find  that  the  names  they  had  picked  out  were 
so  few.  In  all  there  were  but  eight,  as  follows: 

Miss  Mary  Sollenberger, 

Miss  Mary  Green, 

Miss  Margaret  Schwartz, 

Miss  Maria  Rosenheim, 

Miss  Martha  Simmons, 

Miss  Marcia  Ford, 

Miss  Marian  Greenberg, 

Miss  Mary  King. 
Duvall  ran  his  pencil  down  the  list  of  names. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  165 

"There  is  but  one  that  fulfills  the  requirements," 
he  announced.  "The  sixth  name,  that  of  Miss 
Marcia  Ford,  contains  in  all  fourteen  letters.  None 
of  the  others  do.  Two,  those  of  Miss  King  and 
Miss  Green,  come  the  nearest.  Miss  King' 3  full 
name  contains  twelve  letters,  Miss  Green's,  thir 
teen.  Any  one  of  the  three  might  be  the  one  we 
seek." 

"I  can  answer  for  Miss  King  at  once,"  said  Mr. 
Baker,  quietly.  "She  is  my  stenographer,  and  most 
certainly  not  the  woman  who  was  in  the  theater 
to-night." 

"That  leaves  then,  Miss  Green  and  Miss 
Ford.  What  do  they  do,  and  what  are  their  ad 
dresses?" 

Mr.  Baker  referred  to  his  book. 

"Miss  Green  is  a  telephone  operator.  Her  ad 
dress  is  given  here  as  310  Gold  Street,  Brooklyn. 
Miss  Ford  is  a  film  cutter,  and  lives  at  122  West 
9th  Street,  New  York." 

"Neither  sounds  particularly  promising,"  Duvall 
remarked,  with  a  frown. 

"No.  But  of  course  we  are  assuming  that  the 
woman  in  question  works  in  the  studio.  If  she  does 
not,  our  whole  fabric  falls  to  pieces." 


i66  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  took  the  torn  piece  of  card  from  his  pocket 
and  glanced  at  it. 

"The  address  given  here  begins  with  the  number 
i,"  he  said,  significantly.  It  may  be  that  Miss 
Marcia  Ford,  of  122  West  Ninth  Street,  is  the 
woman  we  are  looking  for,  although  I  confess  I 
should  have  suspected  some  rival  motion  picture 
star,  rather  than  a  film  cutter." 

"By  George,  I  forgot  the  fact  that  the  card  had 
an  address  on  it,"  Baker  exclaimed.  "I  think  we 
had  better  look  up  Miss  Ford  at  once." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  Duvall  said.  A  few  moments 
later  they  were  driving  at  top  speed  back  toward 
New  York. 

It  was  five  minutes  to  twelve  when  they  reached 
the  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  Ninth  Street  and 
turned  west.  Duvall  realized  that  they  were  follow 
ing  a  very  slim  clue,  but  it  seemed  for  the  moment 
the  only  promising  one  they  had. 

The  house,  No.  122,  proved  to  be  a  typical  high 
stooped,  brown-stone  boarding  house  of  this  section1 
of  the  city.  It  was  for  the  most  part  dark,  although 
one  or  two  of  the  upper  windows  showed  lights. 

Accompanied  by  Baker,  Duvall  quickly  mounted 
the  steps  and  rang  the  bell.  At  first  there  was  no 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  167 

answer,  although  they  could  hear  the  sound  of  the 
bell  tinkling  mournfully  inside.  A  second  summons 
brought  no  greater  response.  At  the  third,  a 
woman's  head  appeared  in  one  of  the  upper  win 
dows,  and  they  heard  a  shrill  and  not  over  pleasant 
voice  asking  them  what  they  wanted. 

"I  have  an  important  message  for  Miss  Marcia 
Ford,"  Duvall  replied  pleasantly.  "I  must  see  her 
at  once." 

"Miss  Ford  moved  away  from  here  three  months 
ago,"  the  woman  snapped. 

"Will  you  please  give  me  her  present  address?" 
the  detective  exclaimed,  somewhat  taken  aback. 

"I  don't  know  it.  She  didn't  say  where  she  was 
going.  Good  night !"  A  moment  later  the  window 
above  them  was  closed  with  a  slam. 

The  two  men  stood  staring  at  each  other  in  the 
utmost  disappointment.  They  had  expected  a  more 
favorable  outcome  of  their  expedition. 

"How  long  has  she  been  with  you?"  Duvall 
asked,  turning  to  his  companion. 

"I  don't  know.  Certainly  over  three  months,  or 
we  shouldn't  have  this  address  on  our  books.  I 
suppose,  when  she  changed  it,  she  omitted  to  notify 
us.  What  are  we  going  to  do  now?" 


168  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"There  isn't  anything  we  can  do,  until  morning. 
If  Miss  Marcia  Ford  reports  for  work  to-morrow, 
and  you  see  that  she  is  the  woman  who  fainted 
in  the  theater  to-night,  have  her  arrested  at  once. 
If  she  doesn't  report  for  work,  at  least  we  shall 
know  that  she  is  the  woman  we  are  after." 

"That  isn't  much  consolation,"  Mr.  Baker 
grumbled. 

"I  don't  agree  with  you.  Having  the  woman's 
name,  knowing  her  appearance,  we  are  certain  to 
catch  her,  sooner  or  later.  And  in  the  meanwhile, 
I  do  not  think  that  she  will  attempt  anything  fur 
ther  so  far  as  Miss  Morton  is  concerned.  We  are 
too  close  on  her  trail,  for  that." 

"I  hope  you  are  right,"  said  the  motion  picture 
man.  "Well,  I  guess  I'll  go  along  home.  I'll  be 
at  the  studio  first  thing  in  the  morning,  however, 
and  I  suppose  you  will  be  there  too." 

"By  all  means.  I  am  most  curious  to  see  whether 
our  reasoning  to-night  has  been  correct." 

"Shall  I  take  you  to  your  hotel  in  my  car?" 

"No,  thanks.     I'll  take  a  taxi.     Good  night." 

"Good  night." 

A  few  moments  later,  Duvall  was  speeding  up 
Fifth  Avenue,  his  brain  still  puzzling  over  the 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  169 

curious  contradictions  which  the  events  of  the  night 
had  developed.  On  one  point  he  felt  secure,  how 
ever.  He  was  certain  that  the  woman  who  had  so 
narrowly  escaped  him  earlier  in  the  evening  would 
not  soon  again  attempt  anything  against  Ruth 
Morton. 

Arrived  at  his  hotel,  he  asked  for  his  key.  The 
man  behind  the  desk,  with  a  queer  look,  handed  him 
along  with  it  a  slip  of  paper.  On  it  was  written: 
"Mrs.  Bradley  wishes  Mr.  John  Bradley  to  come 
to  her  room  at  the  moment  he  returns." 

"When  was  this  message  left?"  the  detective 
asked. 

"Oh — nearly  two  hours  ago.  The  time  is  stamped 
on  the  back  of  it,  sir." 

Duvall  turned  the  card  over,  and  saw  from  the 
stamp  on  the  other  side  that  Mrs.  Morton  had  sent 
for  him  at  half  past  ten. 

"The  message  was  phoned  down  by  the  lady  her 
self,"  the  clerk  added,  by  way  of  explanation. 

Duvall  went  up  in  the  elevator,  and  a  few  mo 
ments  later,  was  knocking  at  the  door  of  Mrs. 
Morton's  suite. 

The  latter  herself  appeared  in  the  doorway.  She 
was  pale  and  agitated. 


1 70  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Come  in,  Mr.  Duvall,"  she  said. 

The  detective  entered,  closing  the  door  behind 
him. 

"What  is  wrong,  Mrs.  Morton?"  he  asked. 

"There  has  been  another  warning — a  dreadful 
one,"  the  older  woman  exclaimed,  her  voice  trem 
bling.  "It  came  a  little  after  ten." 

"What  was  it?"  Duvall's  voice  was  almost  as 
strained  as  that  of  the  woman  before  him.  Her 
words  came  to  him  as  a  complete  surprise.  Had 
all  the  work  of  the  evening,  then,  been  wasted? 

"At  a  little  after  ten,"  Mrs.  Morton  said  slowly, 
"I  sent  my  maid  Nora  out  for  some  medicine  for 
my  daughter.  She  went  to  a  drug  store  some  three 
blocks  away.  As  she  returned  to  the  hotel,  she 
saw  a  young  woman  standing  near  the  entrance, 
apparently  watching  those  who  went  in  and  out. 
As  soon  as  the  maid  came  up  to  the  doorway,  the 
woman  stepped  up  to  her,  and  thrusting  a  package 
into  her  hands,  said  quickly,  'Give  this  to  Miss 
Ruth  Morton.  It  is  from  the  studio.'  Then  she 
walked  away  at  once. 

"Nora,  as  she  tells  me,  did  not  know  just  what 
to  do.  You  will  remember  that  while  she  realizes 
from  our  presence  here  under  an  assumed  name, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  171 

that  something  is  wrong,  she  knows  little  or  nothing 
of  the  circumstances  surrounding  Ruth's  terrible 
persecution.  Hence  she  foolishly  took  both  the 
^  medicine  and  the  package  the  woman  had  given  her, 
to  my  daughter." 

"Yes — yes — go  on,"  Duvall  exclaimed,  seeing 
Mrs.  Morton  pause. 

"Ruth  opened  them  both.  I  was  in  the  next  room 
at  the  moment.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  cry,  and  on 
rushing  in,  found  her  standing  in  the  center  of  the 
room,  holding  a  small  bottle  in  one  hand,  and  star 
ing  at  it  in  the  utmost  consternation.  In  her  other 
hand  was  a  sheet  of  paper,  which,  as  I  subsequently 
found,  had  been  wrapped  around  the  bottle,  inside 
the  outer  brown-paper  cover. 

"The  bottle  was  labeled  'carbolic  acid.'  Here  is 
the  sheet  of  paper."  Mrs.  Morton,  with  trembling 
fingers,  extended  a  half  sheet  of  none-paper  toward 
the  detective. 

Duvall  took  it  and  read  the  typewritten  words 
upon  it. 

"We  gave  you  thirty  days.  Now  we  give  you 
seven.  Drink  this,  and  save  yourself  from  a  hor 
rible  fate."  The  death's  head  signature  ended  the 
message. 


172  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"Ruth  has  been  very  ill  ever  since,"  Mrs.  Morton 
added  drearily.  "If  she  is  not  better  in  the  morn 
ing,  I  shall  call  in  a  doctor.  She  felt  herself  abso 
lutely  safe,  here,  and  was  recovering  her  cheerful 
ness.  Now  all  her  fears  have  returned  with  re 
doubled  force.  I  am  terribly  worried  about  her — 
terribly  worried."  Taking  out  her  handkerchief, 
the  poor  woman  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 
"How  could  these  people  have  known  we  were 
here  ?"  she  whispered,  in  an  awed  voice.  "It  seems 
like  the  work  of  fiends." 

There  was  little  that  the  detective  could  say  in 
reply.  Even  to  his  sober  judgment,  there  came  a 
suggestion  of  the  uncanny,  the  supernatural.  The 
woman  in  the  cab  had  escaped  at  half  past  nine, 
presumably  quite  ignorant  of  the  location  of  Mrs. 
Morton's  retreat.  Half  an  hour  later,  the  campaign 
of  intimidation  was  renewed  with  greater  vigor  than 
before. 

"I'm  afraid,  Mrs.  Morton,"  he  said,  "that  it  will, 
be  necessary  for  you  to  remain  with  your  daughter' 
every  minute  of  the  time,  for  a  day  or  two.     By 
then,  I  am  convinced  that  we  shall  have  laid  our 
hands  on  the  guilty  parties.     Good  night." 

Duvall  rose  very  early  the   following  morning, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  173 

and  drove  at  once  to  the  studio,  but  early  as  he  was, 
Mr.  Baker  was  there  before  him. 

The  latter  was  seated  in  his  office,  poring  over  a 
mass  of  reports,  when  Duvall  entered.  He  glanced 
up,  rose,  shook  hands  nervously,  then  motioned  to 
a  chair. 

"Nothing  new  yet,"  he  said.  "My  stenographer, 
Miss  King,  is  here.  Neither  Miss  Green  nor  Miss 
Ford  have  yet  arrived,  but  it  4s  still  a  little  early. 
Miss  King  came  before  her  usual  time,  as  she  had 
some  reports  to  get  out  that  she  could  not  complete 
last  night.  We  have  at  least  fifteen  minutes  to 
wait." 

Duvall  told  him  to  proceed  with  his  work,  and 
drawing  a  newspaper  from  his  pocket,  made  an 
effort  to  interest  himself  in  it.  In  this,  however, 
he  was  not  very  successful.  Time  after  time  his 
mind  would  wander  from  the  printed  sheet  before 
him  to  the  strange  events  of  the  night  before.  The 
thing  that  puzzled  him  most  was,  how  did  the  per 
secutors  of  Miss  Morton  discover  her  new  address 
so  soon?  Was  the  woman  who  had  handed  the 
package  to  Nora,  the  maid,  the  same  one  that  had 
vanished  from  the  cab?  He  remembered  that  it 
had  been  about  nine  o'clock  when  they  left  the 


174  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Grand  Theater,  and  perhaps  half -past  when  he  had 
gone  into  the  drug  store  in  Sixth  Avenue  to  get  the 
aromatic  spirits  of  ammonia.  Had  the  woman  gone 
directly  from  the  cab  to  the  hotel?  She  must  have 
done  so,  without  much  loss  of  time,  in  order  to 
reach  there  by  ten  o'clock.  How  had  she  known 
the  address?  He  knew  very  well  that  he  had  given 
it  to  the  cabman,  when  they  started  away  from  the 
theater.  Had  the  supposedly  fainting  woman  over 
heard  his  words?  If  she  had,  and  had  so  promptly 
acted  upon  them,  she  was  far  more  clever  and  de 
termined  than  her  appearance  would  seem  to  war 
rant.  He  revolved  the  matter  endlessly  in  his  mind, 
waiting  for  Mr.  Baker  to  announce  that  the  time 
had  come,  when  Miss  Ford's  or  Miss  Green's  arrival 
or  non-arrival  would  indicate  which  of  the  two,  if 
either,  was  the  woman  they  sought. 

Suddenly  the  bell  of  the  telephone  on  Mr.  Baker's 
desk  ran  sharply.  He  answered  it,  then  turned  to 
Duvall. 

"Miss  Green,  the  telephone  operator,  is  at  her 
desk,"  he  said.  "Would  you  like  to  take  a  look  at 
her?" 

"Yes."  The  detective  arose,  and  followed  Mr. 
Baker  into  the  corridor. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  175 

The  switchboard  of  the  building  was  located  at 
the  end  of  the  hall,  in  a  small  bare  room.  When 
they  reached  it,  Mr.  Baker  spoke  to  a  dark-haired, 
rather  stout,  woman  who  sat  at  the  desk. 

"Miss  Green,"  he  said,  "if  any  calls  come  in  for 
Mr.  Duvall,  he  will  be  in  my  office."  Then  he  went 
back  along  the  corridor. 

"She  certainly  isn't  the  woman  we  are  after," 
he  remarked  to  Duvall,  as  soon  as  they  were  out 
of  earshot. 

"No.  It  must  be  Miss  Ford,"  the  detective 
replied. 

"Suppose  we  go  to  the  developing  and  finish 
ing  department,"  Baker  suggested.  "It  is  time 
all  our  people  were  on  hand.  Mr.  Emmett, 
who  is  in  charge  there,  can  tell  us  about  Miss 
Ford." 

They  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  building, 
and  entered  a  small  office.  A  bald-headed  man  sat 
at  a  littered  desk. 

•  "Mr.  Emmett,"  Baker  said,  "shake  hands  with 
Mr.  Duvall.  He  is  looking  for  a  young  woman  in 
the  finishing  department.  Miss  Marcia  Ford.  Has 
she  come  in  yet?" 

"No,"  replied  the  bald-headed  man,  gravely  shak- 


176  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

ing  hands.  "She  is  not  here  this  morning.  It  is 
rather  surprising,  too,  for  she  usually  is  on  time." 

"What  sort  of  a  looking  woman  is  she?"  Duvall 
inquired. 

"Oh — a  rather  insignificant  looking  girl  of  about 
'twenty-five.  Small,  slender,  not  very  prepossessing, 
but  clever — enormously  clever.  One  of  the  best 
film  cutters  we  have.  I  should  be  sorry  to  lose 
her." 

"Light  blue  eyes,  and  light  hair,"  Duvall  ques 
tioned.  "And  a  thin,  rather  cruel  mouth?" 

"Exactly.  But  why?  Has  she  gotten  into  any 
trouble?" 

"No-^I  hope  not.    I  merely  wanted  to  see  her." 

"Well — of  course  she  may  show  up  later, 
although  as  I  say  she  has  usually  been  very 
punctual.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  she  is  sick. 
She's  been  acting  rather  peculiarly,  the  past  few 
days." 

"How  so?"  asked  Duvall,  quickly. 

"I  can't  say — exactly.  I  got  the  impression  from 
her  manner  that  she  was  nervous,  excited,  out  of 
sorts.  Merely  an  impression,  but  such  things 
count." 

"Telephone  me,  Emmett,"  Mr.  Baker  said,  "if 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  177 

she  comes  in  during  the  next  hour.     Come  along, 
Mr.  Duvall,  you  can  wait  in  my  office." 

They  returned  to  the  other  side  of  the  immense 
building,  and  Duvall  sat  down  to  wait.  He  felt 
sure  that  they  were  on  the  right  track,  and  was 
impatient  to  get  back  to  New  York  and  try  to  locate 
the  missing  woman.  The  description  given  by  Mr. 
Emmett  left  little  doubt  in  his  mind  that  she  and 
Miss  Marcia  Ford  were  one  and  the  same.  He  sat 
in  Mr.  Baker's  office,  reading  the  paper,  waiting 
anxiously  for  the  hour  the  latter  had  specified  to 
pass. 

After  what  seemed  an  interminable  wait,  Mr. 
Baker  glanced  at  his  watch,  then  rose. 

"It  is  ten  o'clock,  Mr.  Duvall,"  he  announced. 
"Miss  Ford  has  not  come,  or  Mr.  Emmett  would 
have  notified  me.  I  do  not  see  that  there  is  any 
thing  further  to  be  accomplished  here." 

As  he  spoke,  the  telephone  bell  rang  sharply.    Mr. 
Baker  picked  up  the  receiver,  listened  intently  for 
a  few  moments,  then  slammed  the  receiver  back, 
upon  the  hook. 

"Hell !"  he  ejaculated  softly. 

"What  is  it?"  Duvall  asked. 

"Miss  Ford  has  just  reported  for  work!" 


PART  III 

CHAPTER  XII 

THE  announcement,  made  by  Mr.  Baker,  that 
Miss  Marcia  Ford,  the  film  cutter,  had  re 
ported  for  work,  filled  Duvall  with  aston 
ishment.     He  had  expected  nothing  of  the  sort, 
so  convinced  was  he  that  the  girl  in  question  was 
the  one  they  were  looking  for,  the  one  who  had 
been  persecuting  Ruth  Morton,  the  motion  picture 
star,  with  her  threats. 

He  rose  from  his  seat,  in  Mr.  Baker's  office  at 
the  studio,  and  turned  toward  the  door.  "If  Miss 
Ford  has  reported  for  work,"  he  said,  "I  had  better 
take  a  look  at  her  at  once.  If  she  is  the  woman 
who  escaped  from  the  cab,  last  night,  I  shall  have 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  her.  But  I  am  afraid 
it  is  out  of  the  question.  Knowing  that  both  you 
and  I  had  seen  her,  when  she  fainted  at  the  theater, 
she  would  not  dare  to  put  in  an  appearance  here 
to-day.  The  thing  is  utterly  incomprehensible." 

178 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  179 

"Still,  she  might  suppose  that  we  would  not  sus 
pect  her,  that  she  could  carry  on  her  work  in  the 
studio  without  anyone  being  the  wiser.  I  seldom 
go  into  that  part  of  the  building,  myself,  and  she 
would  certainly  not  expect  to  see  you.  In  fact,  it 
may  not  have  occurred  to  her  that  we  suspect  one 
of  our  employees,  in  spite  of  the  stolen  photograph 
or  the  fake  telegram." 

"Suppose  we  take  a  look  at  her  at  once.  That 
will  settle  the  whole  question,"  Duvall  urged. 

"Very  well."  Mr.  Baker  closed  his  desk  and  the 
two  men  crossed  the  corridor  and  made  their  way 
into  that  part  of  the  studio  building  devoted  to  the 
developing  and  finishing  of  the  films. 

Mr.  Emmett,  the  head  of  the  department,  was 
seated  at  his  desk  when  they  arrived. 

"So  the  Ford  girl  is  here,"  Baker  said  at  once. 

"Yes,  sir.  She  came  in  about  ten  minutes  ago, 
explaining  her  lateness  by  saying  that  she  was  ill, 
when  she  got  up  this  morning,  and  was  not  sure 
that  she  could  get  here  at  all.  Shall  I  send  for 
her?" 

"No,"  Duvall  interposed  quickly.  "Pardon  me, 
Mr.  Baker,"  he  turned  to  the  latter,  "but  if  we  send 
for  this  girl,  it  will  arouse  her  suspicions.  Of 


i8o  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

course  I  do  not  think  she  is  the  woman  we  are 
looking  for,  but  she  may  be  in  league  with  her. 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  have  Mr.  Emmett  and 
yourself  conduct  me  through  the  room  in  which 
she  works,  as  though  I  were  a  visitor  to  the  studio? 
You  can  readily  point  her  out  to  me  as  we  pass, 
and  that  will  give  me  ample  opportunity  to  recognize 
her,  in  case  I  have  ever  seen  her  before." 

"I  think  that  a  very  good  idea,"  returned  Baker. 
He  said  a  few  words  to  Mr.  Emmett,  and  the  three 
men  set  out  to  go  through  the  rooms  in  which  the 
film  cutting  and  pasting  were  done. 

At  one  of  the  tables  a  girl  of  about  twenty  was 
at  work.  As  they  passed,  Mr.  Emmett  turned  his 
head  and  nodded.  The  girl  did  not  look  up,  and  the 
three  men  continued  their  way  through  the  room. 

When  they  again  reached  the  hall,  Mr.  Baker 
turned  to  Duvall. 

"Well?"  he  questioned. 

"It  is  not  the  woman,"  the  detective  said.  "I 
did  not  suppose  it  would  be.  There  is  some  slight 
resemblance,  of  course.  The  color  of  the  eyes  and 
hair  is  the  same,  and  the  features  are  somewhat 
alike.  However,  I  am  very  much  afraid,  Mr.  Baker, 
that  I  have  wasted  both  your  time  and  mine.  And 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  181 

yet,  I  cannot  get  over  my  original  impression,  that 
the  person  responsible  for  these  threats  is  connected, 
in  some  way,  with  your  company." 

Baker,  puzzled  and  disappointed  as  well,  led  the 
way  back  to  his  office.  Duvall,  however,  when  they 
reached  it,  did  not  enter. 

"I  shall  not  remain  any  longer,  at  present,"  he 
said.  "I  have  an  idea  that  I  can  accomplish  more 
in  town.  Perhaps  I  may  discover  something  there 
— some  clue,  that  will  enable  us  to  make  progress. 
I  have  a  plan  that  may  result  in  something." 

"What  is  it?"  Mr.  Baker  asked. 

"I  prefer  not  to  say  yet.  If  anything  develops, 
I  will  let  you  know.  Good  day." 

The  taxicab  in  which  he  had  made  the  trip  down 
was  still  waiting  for  him.  An  hour  later  he  had 
reached  his  hotel. 

The  disguise  of  the  night  before  he  had  discarded. 
The  woman  in  the  cab  had  penetrated  it.  His 
presence,  and  that  of  Mrs.  Morton,  at  the  uptown 
hotel,  was  known.  There  seemed  to  be  no  further 
purpose,  for  the  present,  in  attempting  to  preserve 
his  incognito.  He  went  to  his  room  at  once,  and 
knocked  on  the  door  which  separated  it  from  the 
apartment  of  Mrs.  Morton  and  her  daughter. 


182  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

The  door  was  opened  by  the  maid,  who  ushered 
him  into  the  little  parlor. 

"I  will  tell  Mrs.  Morton  that  you  are  here,"  the 
girl  said,  and  went  into  the  next  room. 
i  Mrs.  Morton  came  out  presently,  her  face  pale 
and  drawn.  Duvall  knew  at  once  that  she  had  been 
up  all  night,  watching,  no  doubt,  beside  her 
daughter. 

"How  is  Miss  Ruth?"  he  asked. 

"She  is  better.  She  had  a  fairly  good  night's 
rest,  and  her  fever  has  left  her." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  I  hope  there  hare  been 
no  further  threats." 

"No.  Not  yet.  But  I  never  know  at  what 
moment  something  may  happen.  It  is  terrible — 
terrible,  living  under  a  shadow  like  this." 

As  she  spoke,  the  telephone  bell  rang. 

"You  answer  it,  Mr.  Duvall,"  she  said,  turning 
quickly  to  the  door  by  which  she  had  entered,  and 
closing  it.  "I  do  not  think  I  can  stand  anything 
more  at  present." 

Duvall  took  down  the  receiver.  Someone  was 
asking  for  Mr.  John  Bradley. 

"This  is  Mr.  Bradley,"  he  said,  then  suddenly 
recognized  his  wife's  voice. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  183 

"Is  this  you,  Richard?"  she  asked. 

"Yes.    What  is  it?" 

"If  you  have  time,  to-day,  come  down  and  see 
me.  I  have  something  I  want  to  tell  you.  Some 
thing  important." 

"Very  well.  I  will  be  there  in  half  an  hour. 
Good-by."  He  hung  up  the  receiver. 

"Was  it  anything — anything  more,  Mr.  Duvall?" 
asked  Mrs.  Morton. 

"No.  Nothing  of  that  sort.  Well,  I  must  gc 
along  now.  I  merely  looked  in  to  ask  after  your 
daughter.  There  is  one  thing  I  want  you  to  do, 
however,  and  that  is,  let  me  have  a  key  to  your 
apartment  on  57th  Street." 

Mrs.  Morton  took  the  key  from  her  purse,  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

"Haven't  you  any  good  news,  yet?"  she  asked, 
somewhat  pathetically. 

"Not  yet — at  least  nothing  very  definite.  I  know 
the  woman  who  is  annoying  your  daughter  by  sight, 
however,  and  I  think  I  can  safely  assure  you  that 
she  will  be  under  arrest  before  very  long.  Matters 
of  this  sort  take  time,  Mrs.  Morton.  Remember 
that  I  have  had  charge  of  the  case  but  three 
days,  and  these  people  we  are  looking  for  are 


184  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

shrewd,  leaving  few  clues.  But  I  feel  that  I 
shall  have  something  definite  to  report  very  soon 
now." 

"I  hope  so,  I'm  sure.     Good  day." 

"Good  day."  Duvall  left  the  room,  and  taking 
a  taxi,  drove  down  to  see  Grace. 

He  found  her  sitting  at  the  writing  desk,  in  the 
reception  room  of  their  suite,  apparently  busy  over 
a  letter.  She  pushed  the  sheet  of  paper  aside,  when 
her  husband  entered,  and  threw  her  arms  about  his 
neck. 

"Richard!"  she  exclaimed,  "I'm  so  glad  to  see 
you.  It  has  been  ages.  What's  the  matter  with 
you.  You  look  dreadfully  blue." 

Duvall  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"I'm  a  bit  disgusted  with  myself,"  he  said. 

"What  about?  I  may  ask  you  now,  may  I  not? 
Is  it  about  that  wretched  Morton  case?  I  must 
talk  to  you  about  that.  May  I?  You  see,  you 
rather  got  me  into  it,  last  night,  and  I  got  myself 
into  it,  too,  by  coming  up  to  your  hotel  to  see  you, 
and  now  you've  got  to  tell  me  how  things  turned 
out,  after  you  left  the  theater,  or  I  shall  not  know 
just  what  to  do." 

"About  what?" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  185 

"I'll  tell  you  that,  after  I  hear  about  last  night." 

Duvall  laughed,  although  a  trifle  grimly. 

"I'm  not  particularly  proud  of  last  night,"  he 
said. 

"Wasn't  the  woman  who  fainted  the  one  you  were 
after  ?"  asked  Grace. 

"Yes.  I'm  sure  she  was.  But  unfortunately, 
she  got  away  from  me."  He  outlined  to  Grace  the 
circumstances  which  led  up  to  the  woman's  escape 
from  the  cab. 

"You  say  she  was  a  small,  slight  woman,  with 
light  hair?" 

"Yes.    Why?" 

"Then  I  may  know  something  about  her." 

"What?" 

"I'll  tell  you.  You  remember  that,  when  I  came 
up  to  see  you  at  the  hotel  yesterday  afternoon,  you 
were  greatly  put  out,  because  you  were  afraid  that 
I  might  have  been  followed,  thus  disclosing  the 
name  of  your  hotel  to  these  people  you  are  trying 
to  avoid?" 

"Yes.  I  was  afraid  of  it.  And  the  people  in 
question  did  find  out  in  some  way  where  I  had 
taken  Miss  Morton  and  her  mother,  as  I  discovered 
last  night." 


1 86  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"They  did  not  discover  it  through  me." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"It  came  about  in  a  curious  way.  After  you 
told  me,  over  the  telephone,  that  you  feared  I  might 
have  been  followed,  I  looked  up  the  taxi  driver 
who  took  me  uptown,  and  asked  him  if  anyone 
had  tried  to  question  him.  I  thought  that  possibly 
this  hotel  might  have  been  watched,  and,  if  so,  the 
person  who  was  watching  it  might  have  noticed 
the  number  of  my  car,  or  the  driver,  and  later, 
applied  to  him  for  information.  I  saw  him  as  soon 
as  I  returned.  No  one  had  done  so." 

"That  is  all  very  well,  but  they  might  have  asked 
him,  and  found  out  where  he  drove  you,  later." 

"They  did  ask  him,  later.  Why  is  it,  Richard, 
that  you  seem  to  forget  that  I  have  done  detective 
work  before,  too?  I  suspected  that  he  might  be 
approached,  and  I  subsidized  him — gave  him  ten 
dollars,  and  instructed  him  to  let  me  know,  in  case 
anyone  questioned  him  about  me." 

"Well,  late  yesterday  afternoon,  a  woman,  an 
swering  the  description  you  give,  did  apply  to  the 
cabman  to  find  out  where  he  had  driven  me. 
Naturally  he  told  her  nothing.  Then,  thinking,  I 
suppose,  that  I  might  repeat  my  visit,  she  gave  him 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  187 

five  dollars,  and  told  him  to  let  her  know  in  case 
I  drove  from  here  to  any  other  hotel.  She  figured, 
no  doubt,  that  being  your  wife,  I  was  certain  to  go 
and  see  you." 

Duvall  sat  forward  in  his  chair,  an  eager  look 
upon  his  face. 

"You  did  splendidly,  Grace,"  he  said.  "Much 
better  than  I  have  done.  But  the  important  point 
is  this.  How  was  the  cabman  to  let  her  know,  and 
where?  Did  she  give  him  her  name  and  address?" 

She  gave  him  a  name  and  address.  It  is  about 
that,  that  I  wanted  to  see  you." 

"What  was  it?" 

"Alice  Watson.  General  Delivery.  He  was  to 
write  her  a  letter." 

Duvall  sank  back  in  his  chair  with  a  disappointed 
look. 

"An  assumed  name,  of  course,"  he  said.  "I'm 
afraid  it  won't  be  of  much  service  to  us." 

"But  why?  I  was  going  to  write  this  woman  a 
letter,  giving  her  the  name  of  some  other  hotel — 
any  one  would  do.  Then,  she  would  come  there  to 
find  you,  we  could  have  the  cabman,  Leary,  on 
watch  to  point  her  out,  and  in  that  way  identify  her 
and  perhaps  follow  her  to  her  home," 


i88  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  shook  his  head. 

"It  would  have  worked  splendidly,  my  dear,"  he 
said,  "except  for  the  fact  that  in  some  way  the 
woman  has  already  discovered  the  name  of  my 
hotel.  She  will  not  go  to  the  general  delivery  win 
dow  at  the  post  office  to  get  it,  now,  for  she  already 
knows  it.  And  if  she  did,  she  would  realize  as  soon 
as  she  read  your  letter  that  you  were  not  telling 
her  the  truth.  Is  that  what  you  have  been  so  busy 
about?"  He  glanced  at  the  half-finished  letter  that 
lay  on  his  wife's  desk. 

"Yes."  Grace  looked  at  him  rather  sheepishly. 
"I  am  terribly  disappointed,"  she  said.  "I  really 
hoped  that  I  had  discovered  something  that  would 
help  you."  She  took  from  the  desk  the  piece  of 
paper  that  contained  Alice  Watson's  address,  and 
tearing  it  into  bits,  dropped  them  slowly  into  the 
waste  basket. 

Duvall  observed  her  action. 

"What  are  you  tearing  up?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  nothing.  Merely  the  bit  of  paper  that  con 
tained  the  woman's  assumed  name  and  address.  It 
is  of  no  use  any  longer."  She  glanced  at  a  scrap 
of  the  paper,  about  half  an  inch  square,  that  re 
mained  between  her  fingers,  then  started. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  189 

"There  must  have  been  something  on  the 
other  side,"  she  exclaimed.  "There's  a  part  of  a 
name  here — printed  or  engraved.  It  looks  like 
'Ford.'  " 

Duvall  sprang  from  his  chair  and  made  a  dive 
for  the  scrap  basket. 

"Ford !"  he  exclaimed.  "That's  queer !  We  must 
get  every  scrap  of  that  card  at  once." 

It  took  the  two  of  them  several  minutes  to  gather 
from  the  basket  the  tiny  pieces  into  which  Grace 
had  torn  the  bit  of  paper.  Then  they  fitted  them  to 
gether.  Duvall  saw  at  once,  as  soon  as  he  picked  up 
the  first  scrap,  that  the  address  had  been  written 
on  a  card.  When  the  several  pieces  had  at  last 
been  assembled  upon  the  top  of  the  desk,  it  became 
quite  clear  that  the  Watson  name  and  address  had 
been  hastily  scrawled  upon  the  torn  half  of  a  visit 
ing  card.  Slowly  and  carefully  Duvall  turned  the 
bits  over.  The  words  engraved  upon  the  opposite 
side  filled  him  with  delight. 

There  were  first  the  letters  "cia,"  followed 
by  the  name  "Ford."  Beneath  were  two  figures, 
a  "6"  and  a  "2,"  and  after  them,  West  57th 
Street. 

Duvall  gazed  at  the  result  in  surprise,  then  taking 


190  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

* 
from  his  pocketbook  the  torn  half  of  the  card  he 

had  found  the  night  before  in  the  cab,  he  laid  it 
beside  the  fragments  on  the  desk.  The  two  fitted 
exactly.  The  name  and  address  were  both  plain. 
Evidently  the  woman  who  had  interviewed  the  cab 
man,  Leary,  and  the  woman  who  had  escaped  from 
the  cab  were  one  and  the  same.  She  had  taken  a 
card  from  her  purse,  torn  it  in  half,  written  the 
"Alice  Watson"  address  that  she  gave  the  cabman 
on  one  half,  and  thrust  the  other  back  into  her 
hand-bag.  Later,  when  Duvall  had  attempted  to 
examine  the  contents  of  the  bag,  the  bit  of  card 
had  fallen  to  the  floor.  All  that  was  sufficiently 
dear. 

Grace,  looking  over  her  husband's  shoulder,  read 
the  completed  name  and  address. 

"Miss  Marcia  Ford,"  she  exclaimed.  "162  West 
57th  Street.  Why,  Richard,  there  is  the  name  and 
address  of  the  woman  you  want." 

"It  may  be  her  address,"  her  husband  remarked, 
gloomily,  "but  it  certainly  isn't  her  name." 

"But—    Why  not?" 

"Because  I  saw  Marcia  Ford  this  morning,  and 
she  isn't  the  woman!" 

Grace  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  191 

"Are  you  sure?"  she  cried. 

"Perfectly.  Marcia  Ford  is  not  the  one  we  are 
after." 

"Then  how  do  you  explain  the  woman  having  a 
card  with  that  name  on  it  ?" 

"I  don't  explain  it — unless,"  he  paused  for  a 
moment  in  thought.  "Unless  this  Ford  woman, 
and  the  other  one,  are  in  league  with  each  other, 
which  might  account  for  the  latter  having  her  card 
in  her  purse." 

"And  the  address!  Is  that  where  Marcia  Ford 
lives?" 

"I  don't  know.  It  may  be  where  they  both  live, 
for  all  I  can  tell.  I  only  hope  it  is."  He  rose  and 
took  up  his  hat. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Grace  asked. 

"To  162  West  57th  Street."  Suddenly  he  took 
his  wallet  from  his  pocket,  snatched  a  second  card 
from  it,  and  after  looking  at  it  for  a  moment,  gave 
an  exclamation  of  delighted  surprise. 

"What  is  it?"  Grace  asked  quickly. 

He  thrust  the  card  into  her  hand.  Grace 
glanced  at  it,  without  quite  understanding  what  it 
meant. 

"I  don't  see  what  you  mean,"  she  exclaimed. 


192  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"The  thing  is  clear  enough.  The  card  I  have 
just  given  you  belongs  to  Miss  Ruth  Morton." 

"I  see  that,  but " 

"Then  surely  you  must  see  that  Miss  Morton's 
apartment  also  is  on  Fifty-seventh  Street,  and  just 
two  doors  from  the  address  of  Miss  Marcia  Ford !" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DUVALL,  upon  discovering  that  the  address 
of  Miss  Marcia  Ford  was  on  West  57th 
Street,  but  two  doors  from  the  building 
in  which  the  Morton  apartment  was  located,  began 
to  feel  that  he  was  on  the  right  track.     He  had 
known,  ever  since  his  first  day  upon  the  case,  that 
the  mysterious  messages  found  in  Ruth  Morton's 
bedroom  had  been  placed  there  by  some  ingenious 
but  perfectly  natural  means.     The  apparition  that 
had  so  startled  the  girl  upon  her  last  night  at  the 
flat  was  capable,  of  course,  of  some  reasonable  ex 
planation.    When  he  left  Mr.  Baker  in  the  morning 
his  plan  had  been  to  go  to  Mrs.  Morton's  apartment 
and  once  more  investigate  all  possible  means  of 
entrance,  hoping  that,  by  finding  out  how  the  mes 
sages  were  delivered,  he  might  also  be  able  to  find 
out  by  whom.     It  was  for  this  reason  that  he  had 
asked  Mrs.  Morton  for  the  key  to  the  apartment. 
Now  the  question  seemed  in  a  fair  way  to  being 
193 


194  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

answered  for  him.  The  fact  that  this  girl's  room 
was  located  so  near  to  the  Mortons'  apartment 
could  not  be  a  mere  coincidence.  There  must  be, 
between  her  room  and  the  Morton  flat  some  means 
of  communication,  although  of  what  nature  he  could 
not  now  surmise.  Fully  convinced,  however,  that 
he  might  very  soon  find  out,  he  hurried  up  to  Fifty- 
seventh  Street  and  walked  along  until  he  reached 
No.  162. 

The  house  was,  like  that  which  immediately  ad 
joined  the  apartment  building,  an  old-fashioned  one, 
of  brown  stone,  with  a  high  front  stoop.  It  pre 
sented  an  appearance  which,  if  not  exactly  dilapi 
dated,  was  yet  in  strong  contrast  to  the  neat  appear 
ance  of  its  neighbors.  A  printed  card  in  one  of  the 
lower  front  windows  indicated  that  roomers  were 
wanted.  , 

It  was  just  the  sort  of  place  that  Duvall  had 
expected  to  find — just  the  sort  of  place  in  which 
a  working  girl  like  Marcia  Ford  would  live. 
Located  in  a  very  excellent  neighborhood,  sur 
rounded  by  apartment  buildings  and  houses  of  the 
best  type,  it  still  could  afford  to  rent  rooms  at  the 
moderate  figure  that  one  of  her  class  could  pay. 
He  went  up  the  front  steps  and  rang  the  bell. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  195' 

i 

"Is  Miss  Ford  in?     Miss   Marcia   Ford?"   he 

asked. 

The  servant  who  came  to  the  door,  a  neatly 
dressed  German  girl,  shook  her  head. 

"No,  Miss  Ford  is  not  in.  She  usually  gets  back 
about  half  past  six." 

Duvall  glanced  at  his  watch.  It  was  not  yet  three 
o'clock.  He  realized  that  he  had  a  long  wait  before 

him. 

l 

"Will  you  leave  any  message?"  the  girl  asked.     , 

"No.  It  is  not  important.  I  will  come  back." 
Descending  the  steps  he  walked  slowly  in  the 
direction  of  the  apartment  building,  two  doors 
away. 

Entering,  he  made  his  way  to  Mrs.  Morton's 
apartment.  The  place  was  just  as  they  had  left  it, 
two  days  before.  The  windows  had  all  been  tightly 
closed  and  fastened,  and  there  were  no  further 
imysterious  messages  lying  about.  Once  more 
Duvall  went  to  Ruth  Morton's  room,  and  opening 
the  two  windows  looked  out. 

His  investigations,  however,  told  him  no  more 
than  he  had  learned  before.  The  three  dormer  win 
dows  in  the  home  next  door  gazed  vacantly  down 
at  him,  their  windows  covered  with  cobwebs  and 


196  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

dust.  The  impossibility  of  anyone  making  their 
way  from  even  the  nearest  of  them,  to  the  window 
where  he  stood,  was  manifest.  And  that  a  long  rod 
or  pole  could  have  been  utilized  to  introduce  the 
letters  into  the  girl's  room  was  even  more  impos 
sible.  He  shook  his  head,  then  turned  to  the  other 
window,  that  facing  upon  the  fire  escape. 
;  Here,  as  on  the  occasion  of  his  previous  examina 
tion,  the  smooth  glossy  surface  of  the  freshly  dried 
paint  showed  no  marks,  except  those  he  had  himself 
made  during  his  former  visit.  And  yet,  as  his  eyes 
searched  the  grated  surface,  he  saw  that  there  was 
something  there,  something  that  had  not  been  there 
before.  He  reached  out  and  picked  it  up. 

It  was  a  woman's  handkerchief,  a  tiny  square  of 
lace-edged  linen,  of  an  inexpensive  variety.  But  it 
was  not  the  mere  presence  of  the  handkerchief  that 
so  interested  him.  It  might  readily  have  belonged 
to  Miss  Morton  herself,  and  have  been  accidentally 
dropped  from  the  window.  There  were  two  things 
•about  this  particular  handkerchief,  however,  that 
marked  it  as  a  clue  of  the  utmost  value.  One  was 
the  fact  that  in  its  corner  was  embroidered  an  initial, 
the  letter  "F."  The  other  was  that  two  of  the 
corners  of  the  handkerchief  were  knotted  together, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  197 

as  though  it  had  been  tied  about  someone's  wrist, 
for  what  reason,  he  could  not  imagine. 

The  latter  feature  puzzled  the  detective  greatly. 
He  could  not  form  any  hypothesis  to  account  for  it. 
If  the  Ford  woman,  as  indicated  by  the  presence  of 
the  handkerchief,  marked  with  an  "F,"  had  been 
on  the  fire-escape,  why  wrere  there  no  tell-tale  marks 
to  indicate  it?  And  if  she  had  not  been  there,  why 
was  her  handkerchief  found  there,  knotted  in  this 
peculiar  way?  Had  it  formed  part  of  some  appa 
ratus,  some  device,  made  of  a  pole  and  a  cord, 
for  inserting  the  threatening  letters  through  the 
window?  If  so,  it  might,  of  course,  have, become 
detached  while  the  device  was  being  used.  Duvall 
remembered  that  he  had  not  examined  the  fire 
escape  on  the  night  when  the  astonishing  apparition 
had  appeared  beside  Ruth  Morton's  bed,  because 
the  window  opening  on  the  fire  escape  had  been 
closed  and  locked.  Had  the  handkerchief  been  left 
there  then  ?  He  sat  for  a  long  time  in  the  deserted 
library,  trying  to  hit  upon  some  reasonable  theory 
to  explain  the  matter,  but  his  efforts  resulted  in 
failure.  Not  the  least  confusing  feature  of  the 
affair  was  the  fact  that  the  woman,  Marcia  Ford, 
was  not  the  woman  he  was  seeking.  He  had  seen 


198  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

her  at  the  studio  that  morning,  and  knew  that  she 
was  not  the  one  who  had  escaped  from  the  cab  the 
night  before.  Were  there  then  two  working 
together?  If  so,  he  would,  through  the  Ford  girl, 
in  all  probability  be  able  to  trace  her  confederate. 
He  waited  patiently  until  the  waning  afternoon  light 
told  him  that  it  was  time  to  begin  his  watch  before 
the  house  at  number  162. 

Across  the  street  a  residence,  closed  for  the  sum* 
mer,  its  front  entrance :  boarded  up,  afforded  him  a 
convenient  place  to  wait.  He  sat  down  upon  the 
steps,  and  pretended  to  be  occupied  with  a  news 
paper.  His  eyes,  however,  sought  constantly  the 
doorway  opposite. 

A  number  of  persons  entered  the  place,  during 
the  next  two  hours,  but  Marcia  Ford  was  not 
amongst  them.  As  the  darkness  began  to  approach, 
and  lights  in  the  streets  and  houses  flared  up, 
Duvall  rose,  crossed  the  street,  and  stationed  him 
self  at  a  nearer  point,  from  which  he  might  the 
more  certainly  identify  anyone  entering  the  house. 
Miss  Ford,  however,  failed  to  appear. 

From  the  sign  in  the  window,  to  the  effect  that 
roomers  were  wanted,  Duvall  concluded  that  the 
Ford  girl  did  not  take  her  meals  in  the  house.  His 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  199 

watch  showed  him  that  it  was  nearly  seven.  Doubt 
less  she  had  arranged  to  dine  before  returning  home. 
In  a  flash  it  came  to  him  that  his  opportunity  to 
make  an  examination  of  her  room  was  now  at  hand. 
I  To  secure  entrance  to  the  room  by  the  usual  chan 
nels  was  clearly  out  of  the  question.  The  people 
at  the  boarding  house  would,  of  course,  not  permit 
it.  But  could  he  discover  the  means  of  communica 
tion,  whatever  they  were,  between  Miss  Morton's 
apartment  and  the  girl's  room,  he  might  be  able  to 
enter  the  latter  unknown  and  unobserved.  He  had 
thought  of  attempting  this  during  the  afternoon, 
but  realized  that  he  could  not  hope  to  accomplish  it, 
in  broad  daylight,  without  being  seen  by  the  occu 
pants  of  the  neighboring  buildings,  and  perhaps 
arrested  as  a  burglar  or  sneak  thief. 

With  a  last  glance  down  the  street,  he  hastened 
back  to  the  apartment  building  and  made  his  way 
to  Mrs.  Morton's  flat.  Passing  quickly  through 
Ruth  Morton's  bedroom,  he  climbed  out  upon  the 
fire  escape  and  looked  about. 

Below  him  were  the  rear  yards  of  the  houses 
fronting  on  the  next  street.  To  the  right  he  could 
see  the  bulk  of  the  apartment  building,  blocking 
his  view  of  the  avenue  beyond.  To  the  left  were 


200  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  rear  buildings  of  the  adjoining  houses.  It  was 
quite  dark,  the  sky  was  starless,  but  all  about  him 
gleamed  the  lights  in  the  windows  of  the  neighbor 
ing  buildings. 

Neither  to  the  right,  nor  to  the  left  was  there 
any  possible  way  by  which  access  to  the  point  where 
he  now  stood  could  be  gained.  From  below,  it  was 
possible,  although  his  previous  examination  had 
showed  him  both  the  fact  that  the  newly  painted 
surface  of  the  fire  escape  was  unmarred,  and  that 
the  ladder  at  the  lower  floor  was  drawn  up  some 
nine  or  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  He  felt  certain 
that  Miss  Ford  had  not  reached  Ruth's  room  in 
that  way. 

He  glanced  upward.  The  fire  escaped  stopped  at 
the  level  of  the  floor  above.  To  ascend  from  it  to 
the  roof  was  impossible. 

Remembering  that  the  top  apartment  was  vacant, 
Duvall  re-entered  the  building  and  hunting  up  the 
janitor,  told  him  that  he  desired  to  get  out  on  the 
roof. 

The  man  remembered  him,  from  his  first  visit, 
and  the  inquiries  he  had  then  made  about  the  tenants 
of  the  apartment  above. 

"I  am  making  some  special  inquiries  on  Mrs. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  201 

Morton's  behalf,"  he  explained.  "You  can  go  with 
me,  if  you  like,  to  see  that  I  do  nothing  I 
shouldn't." 

The  janitor  joined  in  his  laugh. 

"I'm  not  worrying,"  he  rejoined,  "but  I'll  go 
along,  just  the  same,  to  show  you  the  way."  He 
led  the  detective  up  one  flight  of  stairs  and,  going 
to  the  end  of  the  outer  hall,  unlocked  and  opened 
a  small  door  beside  the  elevator  shaft.  A  short 
spiral  staircase  was  disclosed. 

Snapping  on  an  electric  light,  the  man  ascended 
the  steps,  and,  after  fumbling  for  a  moment  with 
the  catch,  threw  open  a  trapdoor  leading  to  the 
roof.  In  a  moment  both  he  and  Duvall  had  climbed 
out  upon  the  tiled  surface.  Duvall  went  to  the  edge 
which  overlooked  the  house  adjoining,  and  peered 
down.  He  at  once  saw  something  that  interested 
him. 

The  house  with  the  dormer  windows  consisted, 
as  has  been  previously  mentioned,  of  four  stories 
and  an  attic.  Its  roof  rose  several  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  window  of  Ruth's  room,  which  was  on 
the  fourth  floor  of  the  apartment  building.  But 
Duvall  saw  at  once  that  this  elevation  of  the  adjoin 
ing  house  did  not  extend  all  the  way  back,  but,  in 


202  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

fact,  stopped  a  little  beyond  the  point  where  it 
joined  the  apartment.  From  here  to  the  rear  of  the 
lot  the  building  had  no  attic,  its  rear  extension  being 
but  four  stories  high.  In  this  position  on  the  apart 
ment-house  roof,  the  roof  of  the  back  building  wasj 
at  least  fifteen  feet  below  him. 

Another  thing  that  he  noticed  at  once  was  the 
fact  that  the  second  house,  No.  162,  was  of 
almost  the  same  design  as  the  first,  that  is,  it  con 
sisted  of  a  main  building  with  an  attic,  and  a  rear 
extension,  reaching  to  the  same  level  as  that  of  the 
house  between.  It  was  clear  that  if  anyone  living 
in  the  second  house  could  obtain  access  to  the  roof 
of  the  back  building,  he  would  be  able  to  walk 
across  that  of  the  first  or  adjoining  house,  and 
reach  a  point  directly  beneath  where  he  stood. 

But,  granting  the  possibility  of  this,  of  what  use 
would  it  be  ?  A  person  on  the  roof  below  him  would 
in  no  conceivable  way  be  able  to  reach  either  of 
the  windows  of  Ruth  Morton's  room.  Was  it 
possible  that  an  opening  had  been  made  through  the 
wall  of  the  apartment  building  itself?  He  thought 
it  unlikely,  but  determined  to  investigate. 

"I  must  get  down  on  that  roof  below,"  he  in 
formed  his  companion. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  203 

The  janitor  grinned. 

"How  are  you  going  to  do  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Haven't  you  a  ladder — a  rope?" 

The  man  thought  a  moment. 

"I've  got  a  short  ladder  in  the  cellar,  only 
about  eight  feet  long,  I  guess.  I'm  afraid  it  would 
not  do." 

"Yes  it  would,"  replied  Duvall,  pointing  to  the 
roof  of  the  attic  portion  of  the  house  below.  I'll 
get  down  to  the  roof  of  the  main  part  of  the  house 
first,  and  from  there  to  the  roof  of  the  back  build 
ing.  An  eight-foot  ladder  will  be  long  enough  for 
that  Bring  it  up,  will  you?" 

The  man  hesitated. 

"I  don't  just  like  this  idea  of  going  on  other 
people's  roofs,"  he  said. 

"You  don't  need  to  go.  I've  got  to.  I'm  a 
detective,  and  I'm  working  for  Mrs.  Morton  on 
a  most  important  case,"  As  he  spoke,  he  took  a  bill 
from  his  pocket  and  pressed  it  into  the  man's  hand. 

The  janitor  responded  at  once. 

"I'll  fetch  it  up,  sir,"  he  said.  'Wait  for  me 
here." 

Duvall  occupied  the  few  moments  consumed  by 
the  janitor's  absence  in  examining,  by  means  of  his 


204  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

i 
pocket  electric  torch,  the  surface  of  the  roof  on 

which  he  stood.  The  smooth  flat  terra  cotta  tiles 
showed  no  distinguishing  marks.  Here  and  there 
spots  of  paint,  marred  by  footprints,  indicated  where 
the  painters  at  work  on  the  building  had  set  their 
buckets,  no  doubt  while  painting  the  wooden  por 
tions  of  the  trapdoor,  and  the  metal  chimney-pots 
on  the  roof. 

The  man  returned  in  a  few  moments  with  the 
ladder,  and  Duvall,  lowering  it  to  the  level  of  the 
main  portion  of  the  adjoining  house,  saw  that  it 
was  of  sufficient  length  to  permit  his  descent.  In  a 
moment  he  had  slipped  off  his  shoes,  and  was  cau 
tiously  descending  the  ladder. 

Once  on  the  surface  of  the  main  roof  of  the 
house,  he  had  intended  to  take  down  the  ladder 
and,  by  means  of  it,  descend  the  remaining  six  or 
seven  feet  to  the  roof  of  the  back  building,  but 
he  found  that  means  for  this  descent  already  existed. 
A  rough  but  permanent  wooden  ladder  led  from  the 
higher  level  to  the  lower.  Duvall  judged  that  it 
had  been  placed  there  to  provide  easy  communica 
tion  between  the  upper  roof  and  the  lower.  Leav 
ing  the  ladder  where  it  stood,  he  made  his  way 
down  to  the  roof  of  the  back  building. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  205 

It  was  covered  with  tin,  and  he  walked  softly 
in  his  stockinged  feet  to  avoid  being  overheard. 

His  first  act  was  to  go  to  the  wall  of  the  apart 
ment  house  which  faced  him,  and  make  a  thorough 
examination  of  it  by  the  light  of  his  electric  torch. 
He  judged  that  in  the  position  in  which  he  now 
stood  he  was  about  on  a  level  with  the  floor  of 
Ruth's  room.  The  brick  wall  of  the  apartment 
building  facing  him  was  blank,  that  is,  it  contained 
no  windows.  After  a  minute  examination,  Duvall 
was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  no  entrance  to  the 
girl's  bedroom  had  been  made  through  it.  The 
bricks  were  solid,  immovable,  the  cemented  joints 
firm  and  unbroken.  A  moment  later  he  turned  to 
the  left. 

Here  the  rising  wall  of  the  attic  story  of  the 
house  faced  him,  reaching  to  a  point  above  his  head. 
Two  dusty  and  long  unopened  dormer  windows, 
similar  to  those  facing  on  the  court,  confronted 
him.  He  remembered  that  the  servant  of  the  house 
next  door  had  informed  him,  earlier  in  the  week, 
that  the  attic  was,  and  long  had  been,  unoccupied. 

Whether  the  attic  was  tenanted  or  not,  however, 
had  no  bearing  on  the  problem  which  confronted 
him.  The  windows  might  serve  as  a  means  whereby 


206  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

anyone  could  reach  the  roof  of  the  back  building 
from  the  house  proper,  but  they  did  not  suggest 
any  means  whereby  anyone  might  reach  the  win 
dows  of  Ruth's  bedroom.  And  by  ascending  to  the 
point  on  the  attic  roof  where  his  ladder  stood,  the 
problem  was  no  nearer  a  solution,  for  a  person 
standing  there  was  on  the  edge  of  the  court  between 
the  buildings,  seven  feet  or  more  above  the  girl's 
bedroom  window,  and  as  many  away  from  it.  He 
turned  away,  and  approaching  the  rear  edge  of  the 
back  building,  looked  over. 

To  his  left,  some  eight  feet  away,  was  the  fire 
escape  before  the  rear  window  of  the  girl's  bed 
room.  Standing  on  that  sharp  edge,  he  realized 
that  in  no  way  could  he  reach  the  railing  of  the  fire 
escape,  except  by  jumping,  a  feat  that  an  expert 
gymnast  might  have  hesitated  to  attempt,  at  that 
height  above  the  ground.  And  could  it  be  done 
successfully,  what  about  the  crash,  the  noise  which 
must  inevitably  result  from  such  a  performance? 
What  about  the  damage  to  the  paint  upon  the  fire 
escape's  iron  surface?  And  yet  it  would  seem  that 
a  young  girl  had  accomplished  this  feat,  without 
noise,  without  making  the  least  mark  to  register  her 
passage.  He  thought  of  the  telltale  handkerchief, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  207 

which  he  had  found  on  the  fire  escape  earlier  in 
the  evening,  then  turned  back  with  a  feeling  of 
annoyance.  The  thing  was,  he  realized,  an  impos 
sibility. 

A  sudden  sense  of  the  passage  of  time  made  him 
hurry  to  the  roof  of  the  rear  building  of  the  house 
at  No.  162.  Like  its  neighbor,  it  was  built  with 
an  attic  story,  and  in  the  rear  were  two  dormer 
windows  opening  in  the  same  way  upon  the  lower 
roof.  Could  these  windows,  by  any  chance,  be 
those  of  the  room  of  Marcia  Ford?  It  seemed 
highly  probable,  since,  if  she  had  operated  from  the 
roof,  they  could  afford  an  easy  way  to  reach  it. 
Very  cautiously  he  crept  up  to  the  nearer  of  the  two 
windows  and  looked  in. 

The  room  before  him  was  in  total  darkness,  and 
the  very  faint  radiance  from  without  was  not  suf 
ficient  to  enable  him  to  distinguish  anything  within 
it.  The  window,  however,  he  saw  to  his  delight 
was  open,  and  the  opening,  although  small,  was 
quite  large  enough  to  enable  him  to  crawl  in.  Hold 
ing  his  electric  torch  in  one  hand,  he  crept  into  the 
room. 

The  beam  of  light  from  his  torch,  although 
powerful,  was,  of  course,  very  concentrated.  He 


208  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

swept  it  about  the  room,  to  make  sure  that  it  was 
unoccupied.  It  was  a  small  room,  long  and  nar 
row,  with  the  single  dormer  window,  by  which 
he  had  just  entered,  at  one  end,  and  a  similar  one 
at  the  side,  in  the  slanting  mansard  roof.  It  con 
tained  a  small  bed,  a  chiffonier  and  dresser,  a  table, 
some  chairs  and  a  trunk.  It  was  a  woman's  room ; 
one  glance  at  the  dresser  told  him  that,  and  a  hand 
kerchief  lying  crumpled  on  the  latter's  top  proved 
to  be  identical  with  the  one  he  had  found  on  the 
fire  escape,  both  in  its  general  character,  and  in  the 
initial  "F"  in  one  of  its  borders.  Beyond  any 
doubt,  he  was  now  in  Marcia  Ford's  room. 

Had  he  been  inclined  to  doubt  it,  two  photographs 
upon  the  wall  would  have  convinced  him.  One  was 
a  picture  of  the  Ford  girl  herself.  The  other  was 
a  portrait  of  the  woman  of  the  cab,  the  one  that 
Duvall  fully  believed  to  be  the  author  of  the  attacks 
upon  Ruth  Morton. 

He  examined  the  various  articles  about  the  room 
with  the  utmost  care,  but  nothing  of  any  interest 
rewarded  his  search.  It  had  been  his  hope  that  he 
might  find  something  of  definite  value — the  type 
writer,  perhaps,  upon  which  the  threatening  letters 
had  been  written,  the  black  sealing  wax,  used  in 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  209 

making  the  death's-head  seals,  the  paper  employed 
by  the  writer.  None  of  these  things  was  in  evidence ; 
there  was  no  typewriter,  the  table  contained  a  small 
bottle  of  ink,  a  couple  of  pens,  and  some  cheap  en 
velopes  and  a  writing  tablet  of  linen  paper  quite* 
different  from  that  upon  which  the  warning  letters 
had  been  written.  There  was  nothing,  absolutely 
nothing,  in  the  place  to  connect  its  occupant  with 
the  sending  of  the  letters,  except  the  room's  location, 
in  such  close  proximity  to  that  of  Ruth  Morton, 
and  the  photograph  of  the  woman  of  the  cab, 
hanging  upon  the  wall. 

Duvall,  greatly  disappointed,  was  about  to  take 
his  departure,  when  he  observed  at  the  far  end  of 
the  room  a  door.  Whether  it  led  to  another  room, 
or  to  a  bathroom,  or  merely  to  a  closet,  he  did  not, 
of  course,  know.  There  was  danger,  he  fully  real 
ized,  that  Marcia  Ford  might  return  at  any  moment. 
There  was  equal  danger  that,  upon  opening  the 
door,  he  might  find  himself  in  another  room,  pos 
sibly  an  occupied  one.  He  thought  at  one  time  that 
he  heard  sounds  on  the  far  side  of  the  door,  but 
when  he  paused  and  stood  listening  he  could  dis 
tinguish  nothing,  and  concluded  that  he  had  been 
mistaken. 


210  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Shutting  off  the  light  of  his  pocket  torch  for  the 
moment,  in  order  that,  should  the  entrance  lead  to 
another  room,  its  rays  might  not  betray  his  presence, 
Duvall  grabbed  the  door  knob,  and,  turning  it  softly, 
opened  the  door. 

For  a  moment  he  had  a  glimpse  of  a  black  cavern, 
and  then,  with  incredible  swiftness,  something 
struck  him  a  heavy  blow  in  the  face.  What  it  was 
he  was  too  much  surprised  and  stunned  to  realize. 
His  electric  lamp  fell  from  his  hand,  and  clattered 
to  the  floor. 

Realizing  his  helplessness  in  the  almost  total 
darkness,  he  bent  down,  groping  about  in  an  un 
successful  effort  to  recover  the  searchlight.  And 
then,  with  a  loud  cry,  a  heavy  body  projected  itself 
upon  him,  grasping  wildly  at  his  hair.  An  arm, 
clothed  in  some  silken  material,  encircled  his  throat. 
He  felt  himself  choking.  And  at  the  same  moment 
a  strange  and  irrational- terror  seized  him.  He 
seemed  in  the  grasp  of  something  uncanny,  some 
thing  inhuman,  in  spite  of  its  very  human  cries. 
With  a  shudder  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  unable  to 
locate  the  missing  electric  torch,  and  shaking  the 
shrieking  figure  from  him,  plunged  toward  the  win 
dow  by  which  he  had  entered. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  211' 

It  was  not  alone  the  surprise,  the  nameless  terror 
of  the  thing,  that  sent  Duvall  headlong  from  the 
room.  He  fully  realized  that  the  noise  of  the  en 
counter,  the  shrieks  of  his  assailant,  would  quickly 
bring  the  other  inmates  of  the  house  to  the  room. 
He  had  no  wish  to  be  discovered  there — his  entrance 
had  been  too  irregular,  too  illegal,  for  that.  With 
extraordinary  rapidity  he  flung  himself  through  the 
window  and  without  waiting  to  observe  the  results 
of  his  intrusion,  sped  swiftly  across  the  roofs  of  the 
two  buildings,  up  the  steps  to  the  attic  roof,  and 
from  there,  by  means  of  the  ladder,  to  the  roof 
of  the  apartment  building.  The  janitor  sat  where 
he  had  left  him,  smoking  a  pipe.  Duvall  looked 
back.  Lights  were  visible  in  the  room  he  had  just  left. 
He  saw  a  figure,  one  that  closely  resembled  Marcia 
Ford,  cross  the  lighted  area  of  the  window.  There 
was  a  second  figure  with  her — smaller,  shorter,  he 
thought.  Who — what  was  it  that  had  attacked  him  ? 
He  stood  in  a  daze,  unable  to  grasp  the  meaning 
of  the  experience  through  which  he  had  just  passed. 

The  janitor  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  and 
rose. 

"Find  what  you  were  looking  for?"  he  asked 
with  a  grin. 


212  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  said.  "Not  exactly.  But  I'm  on  the 
track  of  it." 

"Want  the  ladder  any  more?" 

"No,  not  to-night."  He  assisted  the  man  to  draw 
it  up  to  the  roof. 

A  few  moments  later  he  had  reached  the  side 
walk.  He  glanced  at  his  watch.  It  was  just  eight 
o'clock.  As  he  walked  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
house  at  No.  162,  the  front  door  opened,  and  a 
woman  came  out. 

Duvall  quickened  his  pace,  but  the  woman  was 
also  apparently  in  a  great  hurry.  She  ran  swiftly 
across  the  sidewalk,  and  sprang  into  a  cab  which 
stood  beside  the  curb.  Duvall  was  able  to  get  but 
a  fleeting  glance  at  her,  but  that  glance  was  enough 
to  convince  him  that  she  was  the  mysterious 
prisoner  who  had  so  neatly  given  him  the  slip  while 
in  the  cab  the  night  before.  He  sprang  forward 
with  a  cry,  but  before  he  had  come  within  ten  feet 
of  the  cab,  the  vehicle  dashed  off  and  proceeded 
at  a  rapid  rate  up  the  street. 

A  second  cab  came  along  at  almost  the  same 
moment.  Duvall  hailed  it,  but  the  driver  shook  his 
head,  indicating  that  he  had  a  fare.  In  a  moment 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  213 

the  second  cab  had  passed,  apparently  in  hot  pursuit 
of  the  first.  There  were  no  other  cabs  in  sight. 
With  a  growl  of  anger  and  annoyance  Duvall  turned 
back  to  the  door  of  No.  162. 

Should  he  ring  the  bell  and  ask  for  Miss  Ford? 
he  wondered.  Of  what  use  would  it  be,  to  request 
an  interview?  Yet  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  else 
that  he  could  do.  Miss  Ford  had  not  left  the  house, 
although  the  other  woman,  apparently  her  confed 
erate,  had  done  so.  He  stood  in  the  shadow  of 
the  apartment  building,  trying  to  decide  what  move 
he  should  make  next. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

GRACE  DUVALL,  on  being  left  at  the  hotel 
by  her  husband,  spent  a  long  and  very 
tiresome  afternoon.  She  had  expected 
Richard  back  long  before,  with  news,  perhaps,  of 
a  successful  investigation  of  the  woman,  Marcia 
Ford,  whose  address  was  so  near  that  of  the  Mor 
tons.  But  when  six  o'clock  came,  and  went,  with 
no  news  of  her  husband,  Grace  came  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  he  had  probably  struck  a  long  trail,  and 
being  a  normally  healthy  person,  with  an  excellent 
appetite,  she  went  to  the  dining  room  and  ordered 
dinner,  leaving  word  at  the  desk  where  she  would 
be,  in  case  Richard  returned. 

Her  lonely  meal  was  over  by  seven,  and,  not 
knowing  what  to  do  next,  Grace  went  out  on  the 
sidewalk,  with  the  intention  of  looking  for  her 
friend  of  the  evening  before,  the  taxicab  driver, 
Leary.  It  was  possible  that  the  man  might  have 
something  more  to  report.  As  she  reached  the  door, 
she  saw  him  descend  from  his  cab. 

214 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  215 

He  came  forward  at  once,  tipping  his  cap. 

"Taxi,  ma'am,"  he  asked. 

"No,  I  don't  think  so,  Leary.    Anything  new  ?" 

"Not  a  thing,  ma'am.  Haven't  seen  that  party 
;)since.  Can't  I  take  you  for  a  drive,  ma'am?" 

Grace  was  on  the  point  of  refusing,  when  a  sud 
den  idea  came  to  her.  She  hastily  opened  her 
pocketbook,  tore  out  the  pieces  of  the  visiting  card 
that  Duvall  had  left  upon  the  table,  and  fitted  them 
together. 

"Drive  me  to  162  W.  57th  Street,"  she  directed, 
and  stepped  into  the  cab. 

Leary  touched  his  cap,  and  in  a  few  moments  they 
were  speeding  up  the  Avenue. 

"Don't  go  right  up  to  the  address,"  Grace  told 
him  through  the  speaking  tube.  "Stop  a  little 
below,  but  in  a  place  where  I  can  see  the  door." 

The  man  nodded,  and  a  little  later  they  turned 
into  57th  Street  and  drew  up  alongside  the  curb. 

"Do  you  think  you  would  recognize  the  woman 
who  gave  you  the  card,  last  night  ?"  Grace  asked. 

"Yes,  ma'am.    I  think  I  should,  ma'am." 

"Very  well.  Watch  the  doorway  of  number  162. 
If  she  goes  in  let  me  know.  If  she  comes  out, 
follow  her.  I  shall  probably  recognize  her  myself, 


216  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

if  she  is  the  woman  I  think.  I  saw  her  for  a  few 
moments  at  the  Grand  Theater  last  night.  But 
she  may  not  be  the  same  one.  We'll  know  that 
later." 

Leary  nodded,  and  they  began  a  long  wait.  After 
what  seemed  to  Grace  an  interminable  time,  they 
saw  a  taxicab  come  rapidly  down  the  street,  exe 
cute  a  turn,  and  draw  up  before  the  door  of 
number  162. 

Grace,  as  soon  as  she  realized  the  cab's  destina 
tion,  sprang  to  the  sidewalk  and  strolled  carelessly 
along  in  the  direction  of  the  house.  The  cab  came 
to  a  standstill  just  before  she  reached  it,  and  two 
women  got  out.  One  of  them  Grace  had  never 
seen  before.  The  other  she  recognized  at  once.  It 
was  the  woman  who  had  fainted  in  the  theater  the 
previous  night. 

Neither  of  the  women  paid  any  attention  to  her, 
but  directing  the  cabman  to  wait,  passed  quickly 
into  the  house. 

Grace  went  back  to  her  cab  and  got  in. 

"The  woman  I  am  looking  for  has  just  driven  up 
in  that  cab,"  she  said.  "She  has  gone  into  the  house. 
The  cab  is  to  wait.  When  she  comes  out  again, 
follow  her." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  217 

Leary  nodded,  and  the  two  of  them  settled  down 
for  what  they  supposed  would  be  a  long  wait.  To 
their  surprise,  scarcely  ten  minutes  had  passed  be 
fore  the  door  of  No.  162  was  suddenly  opened, 
and  the  woman  whom  Grace  had  recognized  dashed 
down  the  steps  and  sprang  into  the  waiting  cab. 
At  almost  the  same  moment  Grace  saw  her  husband 
start  forward  from  the  direction  of  the  apartment 
building,  as  though  in  pursuit  of  her. 

There  was  no  time,  however,  to  wait  for  him. 
The  cab  ahead  had  already  started  off,  and  Learyf 
true  to  his  instructions,  was  speeding  after  it.  In  a 
moment  both  vehicles  had  turned  into  Seventh  Ave 
nue  and  were  driving  rapidly  uptown. 

As  minute  after  minute  sped  by,  Grace  began  to 
realize  that  the  chase  might  prove  a  long  one.  They 
had  already  crossed  to  Central  Park  West,  and 
were  now  speeding  northward  again  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  72nd  Street.  Then,  to  Grace's  surprise,  the 
cab  ahead  swerved  into  a  side  street,  and  drew  up 
before  the  entrance  of  the  hotel  at  which  Ruth  Mor 
ton  and  her  mother  were  stopping.  The  cab  had 
no  sooner  stopped  than  the  woman  sprang  out  and 
entered  the  lobby. 

Grace  followed  her  without  a  moment's  hesita- 


218  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

tion,  ordering  Leary  to  wait.  The  woman  hurried 
up  to  the  desk  and,  taking  a  blank  card  from  it, 
scribbled  a  few  words  upon  it  in  pencil,  and  handed 
it  to  the  clerk.  Grace  was  unable  to  hear  what  she 
said  to  him,  but  the  man  nodded,  and  handed  the 
card  to  a  bellboy.  The  woman  sat  down  in  a  nearby 
chair. 

Grace,  having  nothing  else  to  do,  and  being  some 
what  afraid  that  the  woman  might  recognize  her, 
crossed  at  once  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  lobby  and, 
going  to  the  news  stapd,  spent  some  time  in  select 
ing  and  purchasing  a  magazine.  She  stood  with 
her  back  to  the  woman,  screened  by  a  large  palm, 
but  at  the  same  time  managed  to  keep  a  fairly  close 
watch  upon  her. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  anything  happened. 
Then  an  elderly  lady  emerged  from  one  of  the  ele 
vators,  and  under  the  guidance  of  a  bellboy  ap 
proached  the  woman  Grace  had  been  following. 
Grace  did  not  remember  having  ever  seen  the  older 
woman  before,  but  she  had  a  distinct  impression 
that  it  might  be  Mrs.  Morton.  She  strolled  over 
to  the  desk,  and  addressed  the  clerk  in  a  low  voice. 

"Is  that  Mrs.  Morton— the  elderly  lady  in  black?" 
she  asked. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  219 

The  clerk  stared  at  her,  but  his  reserve  melted 
before  her  charming  smile. 

"No,  Miss,"  he  said.    "That  is  Mrs.  Bradley." 

"Thank  you."  Grace  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  and 
turned  away. 

Looking  once  more  toward  the  two  women,  she 
saw  that  the  older  one  was  addressing  her  com 
panion  with  something  of  reserve,  as  though  she 
had  never  met  her  before.  The  younger  woman 
spoke  quickly,  smilingly,  for  a  few  moments,  shook 
hands  with  her  companion,  and  turned  away.  Grace 
saw  that  she  was  about  to  leave,  and  at  once  fol 
lowed  her,  although  at  a  little  distance,  so  as  not 
to  excite  her  suspicions.  When  she  reached  the 
sidewalk  the  other  woman  had  already  entered  her 
cab,  and  seemed  about  to  drive  off. 

The  cab,  however,  merely  moved  to  a  position  a 
little  further  down  the  street,  and  by  the  time  Grace 
had  entered  her  own  vehicle  the  other  had  again 
become  stationary. 

This  maneuver  struck  Grace  as  extremely  pecu 
liar.  She  told  Leary  to  remain  where  he  was, 
and  with  some  misgivings,  awaited  the  woman's 
next  move. 

&fter  a  time  she  saw  Mrs.  Bradley,  who  had  gone 


220  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

toward  the  elevators  as  Grace  left  the  lobby,  come 
out,  signal  for  a  taxicab,  and  drive  quickly  off. 
Leary  was  obliged  to  draw  up  with  his  machine, 
in  order  to  leave  a  clear  space  before  the  door. 

A  few  seconds  later  Grace  saw  the  woman  she1 
had  been  following  spring  from  her  cab,  come 
rapidly  along  the  sidewalk,  and  once  more  enter  the 
lobby.  Grace  again  followed  her,  just  in  time  to 
see  that  instead  of  applying  at  the  desk,  as  before, 
she  went  directly  to  one  of  the  elevators,  entered, 
and  was  whisked  out  of  sight. 

Grace's  heart  almost  stood  still  with  fear.  She 
had  not  appreciated  the  meaning  of  the  woman's 
actions  before.  Now  they  were  only  too  clear.  She 
had  evidently  gotten  Mrs.  Morton,  whom  Grace 
suddenly  remembered  had  been  registered  under  an 
assumed  name,  out  of  the  way  on  some  pretext  or 
other,  and  had  gone  to  Ruth's  room,  with  the  inten 
tion,  no  doubt,  of  carrying  out  her  previous  threats. 
The  situation  was  frightful.  It  would  admit  of  no 
delay.  Grace  dashed  to  the  desk  and  began  to  speak' 
rapidly,  in  a  frightened  voice,  to  the  clerk. 

"That  woman" — she  exclaimed — "the  one  who 
just  went  up  in  the  elevator — she  is  going  to  Miss 
Ruth  Morton's  room — you  must  stop  her — there  is 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  221 

no  telling  what  she  may  not  do— send  up,  quick — 
quick!  Miss  Morton  is  in  the  greatest  danger." 

The  clerk  looked  at  her,  his  mouth  half  open  with 
surprise. 

"I — what  do  you  mean,  Miss?  I  don't  under 
stand  you.  We  have  no  Miss  Morton  here."  He 
regarded  Grace  apprehensively,  and  out  of  the  cor 
ner  of  his  eye  looked  toward  the  cashier,  as  though 
he  contemplated  calling  on  him  for  assistance  in 
case  this  apparently  mad  woman  became  violent. 

Grace  gave  a  groan  of  despair. 

"The  daughter  of  the  elderly  lady,  about  whom 
I  asked  you  before.  Her  name  is  Morton.  Her 
daughter  Ruth  is  staying  here  under  an  assumed 
name — Bradley,  you  say  it  is.  Oh — please  be  quick. 
I  know  what  I  am  talking  about.  That  woman 
who  came  here  a  while  ago  is  a  dangerous  char 
acter.  She  gave  Mrs.  Morton  some  message  or 
other  to  get  her  out  of  the  way,  and  as  soon  as 
she  had  gone  came  back  into  the  hotel  and  went 
upstairs  in  the  elevator.  Didn't  you  see  her?" 

"Yes,  Miss,  I  saw  her.  She  was  a  friend  of 
Mrs.  Bradley's,  she  said,  and  I  supposed  Mrs.  Brad 
ley  had  told  her  to  go  upstairs." 

"I  tell  you,  that  woman  who  just  went  upstairs 


222  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

means  harm — terrible  harm,  to  Miss  Bradley — Miss 
Morton.  Oh — don't  stand  there  wasting  time. 
Come  up  with  me  at  once,  and  you  will  see  that  I 
am  right " 

"But — who  are  you,  Miss?  What  have  you  to 
do  with  the  matter?" 

"What  difference  does  that  make,  if  what  I  say 
is  true?  If  you  must  know,  I  am  a  detective  em 
ployed  by  Mrs.  Morton " 

"Employed  by  Mrs.  Morton !  And  yet  you  didn't 
know  her  when  you  saw  her!  My  dear  woman, 
your  story  does  not  hang  together " 

"It  is  my  husband,  Mr.  Duvall,  who  is  employed 
by  her.  He  was  registered  here  under  the  name  of 
Bradley,  too.  I  am  trying  to  help  him." 

"Oh !"  The  clerk  seemed  somewhat  more  inclined 
to  accord  her  serious  attention.  "Very  well.  I  will 
go  to  the  room  with  you,  and  see  if  everything  is 
all  right." 

"And  hurry,  please — hurry."  Grace  started  to 
ward  the  elevators. 

Then  a  sudden  thought  came  to  her.  Suppose 
the  woman  was  to  make  her  escape,  coming  down 
in  one  of  the  elevators,  while  she  and  the  clerk  were 
going  up  in  another.  There  had  been  ample  time, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  223 

she  knew,  for  her  to  have  murdered  Ruth,  were  that 
her  plan,  and  have  already  left  the  room. 

"Wait  just  a  moment/'  she  cried  to  the  clerk, 
who  had  said  a  few  words  to  one  of  his  assistants 
and  was  leaving  the  desk  to  join  her.  "I  must  speak 
to  my  cabman,  but  I'll  be  back  in  a  moment." 
She  dashed  through  the  entrance  doors  and  hur 
ried  to  the  point  where  Leary  sat  at  his  steering 
wheel. 

"Wait  here,"  she  whispered  to  him,  "until  I  come 
back,  unless  the  woman  we  have  been  following 
comes  out.  If  she  does  come  out,  and  drive  away, 
follow  her,  and  find  out  where  she  goes.  Then 
telephone  me  here,  I  will  leave  my  name  at  the 
desk,  and  wait  until  I  hear  from  you." 

Leary  nodded,  and  Grace  quickly  re-entered  the 
lobby  and  joined  the  waiting  clerk. 

"Instruct  your  telephone  operators,"  she  said  to 
him,  "to  let  me  know,  in  case  anyone  calls  up  Mrs. 
Duvall." 

The  clerk  gave  the  necessary  instructions,  and  the 
two  then  entered  one  of  the  elevators  and  quickly 
made  their  way  to  the  seventh  floor,  upon  which 
Mrs.  Morton's  apartment  was  located. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  corridor  when  they  left 


224  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  elevator,  and  the  clerk,  who  knew  the  location 
of  the  suite,  hastened  to  it  at  once. 

They  reached  the  door.  Grace  was  conscious  of 
a  feeling  of  apprehension,  a  sense  of  impending  dis 
aster.  Her  heart  pounded  violently  as  she  waited 
for  the  answer  to  the  clerk's  knocks.  She  waited 
in  vain.  Only  silence,  grim,  terrible,  rewarded  his 
efforts. 

"Something  has  happened,"  Grace  whispered,  as 
the  clerk  again  rapped  upon  the  door,  this  time  more 
loudly  than  before. 

Again  there  was  no  reply,  no  evidence  of  the 
presence  of  anyone  in  the  girl's  rooms. 

"Open  the  door!"  Grace  cried.  "Something  ter 
rible  must  have  occurred!" 

The  clerk  took  the  pass  key  with  which  he  had 
provided  himself,  and  inserted  it  in  the  lock.  A 
moment  later  the  door  swung  open,  and  the  two  of 
them  entered  the  room. 

It  was  in  total  darkness.  Grace  clutched  at  her 
heart,  fearing  what  she  believed  the  switching  on 
of  the  lights  would  reveal.  The  clerk,  without  loss 
of  time,  pressed  the  push  button  near  the  door.  The 
room  was  at  once  flooded  with  light. 

Grace  glanced  about,  then  gave  a  momentary  sigh 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  225 

of  relief.  The  room,  the  small  parlor  of  the  suite, 
was  quite  vacant.  At  its  further  end  the  door  to 
Ruth  Morton's  bedroom  stood  ajar. 

With  the  clerk  beside  her,  Grace  hurriedly  crossed 
the  room.  With  a  prayer  in  her  heart  she  pushed' 
open  the  bedroom  door.  Her  companion  at  the 
same  moment  felt  along  the  door-jarnb  for  the  elec 
tric  switch.  In  an  instant  the  bedroom  lights  were 
turned  on. 

Then  Grace  saw  that  her  fears  had  been  fully 
justified.  On  the  floor,  halfway  between  the  door 
and  the  bed,  lay  Ruth  Morton,  apparently  lifeless. 
Her  face  was  the  color  of  chalk,  her  eyes  were 
closed.  With  a  cry,  Grace  fell  on  her  knees  beside 
the  unconscious  girl  and  with  trembling  fingers  felt 
her  heart.  The  clerk,  a  weak-faced  young  man, 
stood  gazing  at  the  scene  before  him  in  amazed 
horror. 

"She  isn't  dead!"  Grace  exclaimed,  turning  an 
excited  face  to  him.  "Her  heart  is  still  beating. 
Send  for  a  doctor,  quick!"  Then,  taking  the  un 
conscious  girl  in  her  arms,  she  lifted  her  to  the  bed. 


CHAPTER  XV 

RICHARD  DUVALL,  realizing  that  the 
woman  he  sought  had  once  more  eluded 
him,  was  for  the  moment  unable  to  decide 
what  to  do  next  He  was  oppressed  by  a  sense 
of  failure.  Apparently  this  enemy  of  Ruth  Mor 
ton's  was  far  more  resourceful  than  he  had  sup 
posed.  She  had  gotten  clear  away,  and  there  ap 
peared  no  means  by  which  he  could  trace  her.  That 
the  second  cab,  the  one  he  had  hailed,  contained 
Grace,  did  not  of  course  occur  to  him.  The  trail 
appeared  to  be  hopelessly  lost. 

Still,  his  investigations  in  Miss  Ford's  room  had 
not  been  entirely  fruitless,  although  they  had  also 
added  a  startlingly  new  element  to  the  mystery  of 
the  case.  Who  was  the  person  who  had  attacked 
him  from  the  closet?  Was  it  the  woman  who  had 
just  left  the  house?  He  did  not  think  so.  Nor 
was  it  Miss  Ford  herself.  There  had  been  some 
thing  uncanny  about  the  whole  experience ;  he  was 

226 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  227 

by  no  means  certain  that  his  assailant  had  been  a 
human  being  at  all.  And  yet,  its  cries — its  fingers, 
tearing  at  his  throat.  He  was  unable  to  account 
for  the  experience  at  all,  and  determined,  as  soon 
as  possible,  to  repeat  his  visit,  and  sift  the  matter 
to  tiie  bottom. 

He  remembered  that  he  had  seen  two  persons 
in  the  Ford  girl's  room,  after  his  hasty  retreat.  Two 
women,  he  thought,  outlined  against  the  lighted 
square  of  the  window.  One  of  these  had  already 
left  the  house.  The  other,  Miss  Ford  herself, 
was  still  there.  He  determined  to  interview  her  at 
once. 

Of  course,  he  told  himself,  to  do  so  would  put 
her  on  her  guard,  but  his  visit  to  her  room  had 
already  done  that,  and  doubtless  accounted  for  her 
companion's  hasty  flight.  And  there  was  something 
to  be  gained,  by  letting  her  realize  that  she  was 
under  suspicion.  She  would  at  once  try  to  com 
municate  with,  to  warn,  her  confederate,  and  it  was 
in  just  such  ways  as  this,  Duvall's  experience  told 
him,  that  criminals  so  often  betrayed  themselves. 
If,  by  frightening  Miss  Ford,  he  could  cause  her 
to  flee — to  join  her  companion — the  tracing  of  the 
latter  would  become  comparatively  simple.  He 


228  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

went  up  to  the  door  of  No.  162  and  rang  the 
bell. 

The  same  woman  answered  his  summons  as  had 
answered  before.  She  seemed  somewhat  uneasy — 
disturbed. 

"I  want  to  see  Miss  Marcia  Ford,"  Duvall  told 
her. 

"Very  well,  sir.  Come  in.  I  will  tell  Miss  Ford. 
What  name,  please?" 

"Say  that  Mr.  Bradley  is  calling." 

The  girl  ushered  him  into  a  dark  parlor,  lighted 
by  a  single  lowered  gas  jet,  and  suggestive  of  the 
.gloom  of  ages,  in  its  walnut  furniture,  its  dismal 
pictures  and  ornaments.  He  took  a  seat,  and  waited 
for  the  appearance  of  Miss  Ford. 

She  arrived  in  a  few  moments,  a  slender,  ordi 
nary-looking  girl,  in  white  shirtwaist  and  black 
skirt. 

''You  are  Mr.  Bradley?"  she  asked,  regarding 
the  detective  with  a  look  of  inquiry. 

"Yes.  I  came  to  see  you  about  a  matter  of  im 
portance. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Who  was  the  woman  who  just  left  here — the 
woman  who  had  just  come  in  with  you?" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  229 

Miss  Ford  favored  the  detective  with  a  glassy 
stare. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  she  exclaimed.  "I 
came  home  alone.  What  is  the  purpose  of  these 
questions?" 

Duvall  felt  that  he  had  a  shrewd  opponent  to  deal 
with. 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  Miss  Ruth  Morton?" 
he  asked. 

"Why — certainly — that  is,  I  know  her  by  repu 
tation.  She  works  for  the  same  company  as  I  do. 
Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Miss  Morton  has  recently  been  the  sub 
ject  of  a  shameful  persecution.  The  woman  who 
just  left  this  house  is  concerned  in  it.  Who  is 
she?" 

"I  do  not  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
the  girl  exclaimed,  angrily.  "I  know  nothing  about 
any  woman.  You  must  pardon  me,  Mr.  Bradley, 
if  I  decline  to  be  questioned  in  this  way  any  fur 
ther."  She  moved  toward  the  door. 

"Then  you  wish  me  to  understand  that  the  woman 
who  just  left  this  house  did  not  come  here  with 
you?" 

"Understand  anything  you  please.     I  decline  to 


230  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

be  questioned  any  further."  With  a  look  of  anger 
she  left  the  room. 

Duvall  made  his  way  back  to  the  sidewalk,  thor 
oughly  satisfied  with  the  results  of  his  visit.  The 
Ford  woman,  in  the  first  place,  had  lied.  The  other 
woman  had  been  with  her,  beyond  a  doubt.  Duvall 
thought  of  her  picture  on  the  wall  of  Miss 
Ford's  room.  The  latter's  reason  for  lying  was 
equally  clear.  She  and  the  woman  with  her  were 
guilty. 

In  the  second  place,  Miss  Ford  now  realized  fully 
that  she  was  under  direct  suspicion.  If,  this  being 
the  case,  she  failed  to  take  some  step  that  would  be 
fatal  to  both  her  confederate  and  herself,  Duvall 
felt  that  he  would  be  very  much  surprised.  He 
made  up  his  mind  to  keep  close  watch  upon  the 
house. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  Grace  might 
be  of  immense  service  to  him  at  this  juncture.  She 
could  follow  the  Ford  girl,  unknown,  unrecognized, 
while  he  himself  could  not.  He  decided  to  call  her 
up  at  once,  and  ask  her  to  join  him. 

At  the  corner,  the  lights  of  a  saloon  glowed  bril 
liantly.  With  a  final  glance  at  the  dark  doorway 
of  No.  162,  he  walked  quickly  down  the  street 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  231 

He  felt  that,  if  he  hurried,  he  need  not  be  away 
from  his  post  more  than  a  few  moments. 

The  call  to  his  hotel  developed  the  fact  that 
Grace  was  not  in.  There  was  a  lady  asking  for 
him,  however,  the  clerk  said,  an  elderly  woman, 
who  gave  her  name  as  Mrs.  Morton.  She  had  just 
come  in,  and  seemed  greatly  agitated  at  not  having 
found  him. 

The  name,  Mrs.  Morton,  rilled  Duvall  with  sud 
den  apprehension. 

"I'll  speak  to  her,  please,"  he  said.  A  moment 
later,  he  recognized  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Morton  over 
the  'phone. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Duvall?" 

"Yes." 

"This  is  Mrs.  Morton.  Your  wife  came  to  me, 
a  little  while  ago,  and  said  that  you  wanted  to  see 
me  at  your  hotel  at  once.  She  explained  that  it 
was  of  the  utmost  importance.  Why  are  you  not 
here?" 

"I  sent  no  such  message." 

"No  such  message!    Then  who  did?" 

"I  do  not  know.    You  left  your  daughter  alone  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Then,  Mrs.  Morton,  I  am  afraid  you  have  been 


232  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

imposed  upon.     Wait  where  you  are.     I  will  join 

you  at  once." 

"Hurry,  then,  Mr.  Duvall.  If  what  you  say  is 
true,  we  do  not  know  what  may  have  happened." 

"I  will  be  with  you  in  fifteen  minutes." 

The  astonishing  news  given  to  him  by  Mrs.  Mor 
ton  filled  Duvall  with  alarm.  Clearly  the  supposed 
message  from  him  had  been  part  of  a  scheme  to 
get  her  away  from  the  hotel,  to  leave  Ruth  there 
alone.  He  scarcely  dared  think  of  the  consequences. 
The  following  of  Miss  Ford  now  became  a  matter 
of  secondary  importance.  Fearing  the  worst,  he 
signaled  to  a  passing  taxicab,  and  drove  as  rapidly 
as  possible  to  his  hotel. 

Mrs.  Morton  awaited  him  in  the  lobby.  She  was 
in  a  state  of  the  utmost  excitement. 

"We  must  go  back  to  the  hotel  at  once/*  she  cried. 
"Ruth  is  there  all  alone." 

"Where  is  her  maid,  Nora?" 

"I  let  her  go  out,  this  evening." 

"Then  you  should  not  have  left  the  hotel." 

"'I  would  not  have  done  so,  but  for  this  impera 
tive  message  from  you." 

"What  was  the  message?*1"' 

"Your  wife,  or  at  least  a  woman  claiming  to  be 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  233 

your  wife,  came  to  see  me  a  little  after  eight  o'clock. 
She  said  you  had  arrested  the  woman  who  has  been 
sending  these  threats  to  my  daughter,  and  that  you 
needed  me  at  once,  to  make  a  charge  against  her 
at  the  police  station.  I  naturally  came  here  imme 
diately." 

"The  woman  who  told  you  this — she  couldn't 
have  been  my  wife.  Describe  her." 

"She  was  slight,  small,  neatly  but  not  expensively 
dressed,  with  light  eyes  and  hair." 

"That  was  not  Mrs.  Duvall,  but  it  answers  very 
well  the  description  of  the  woman  we  are  seeking. 
What  did  she  do,  when  you  left  the  hotel?" 

"I  thought  she  also  left." 

"You  are  not  sure  of  this?" 

"No." 

"Then  we  have  no  time  to  lose.  Come."  He 
escorted  Mrs.  Morton  to  a  taxicab,  and  in 
structed  the  chauffeur  to  drive  to  her  hotel  at  top 
speed. 

Mrs.  Morton  had  very  little  to  say  on  the  way 
uptown-  She  was  naturally  in  a  state  of  greatest 
excitement.  Duvall,  too,  was  greatly  concerned. 
He  knew  that  the  false  message  had  not  been  given 
by  Grace.  What  purpose  had  the  woman  in  mind, 


234  THE  FILM  OF  FEAJR 

in  getting  rid  of  Mrs.  Morton?  The  realization 
of  what  might  have  happened  to  Ruth  alarmed  him 
beyond  measure. 

The  drive  to  the  hotel  occupied  but  a  few  mo 
ments,  but  to  Duvall  it  seemed  hours.  When  they 
at  last  drew  up  before  the  hotel  door,  he  sprang 
to  the  sidewalk,  ordered  the  chauffeur  to  wait,  and 
with  Mrs.  Morton  at  his  side,  hurried  into  the 
lobby. 

"Give  me  my  key,"  Mrs.  Morton  cried,  pausing 
for  a  moment  at  the  desk.  Then,  with  Duvall  at 
her  heels,  she  rushed  to  the  elevator. 

As  soon  as  they  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  suite, 
it  was  apparent  that  something  was  wrong.  The 
door  stood  open.  The  clerk,  with  one  of  the  maids, 
occupied  the  little  parlor.  Through  the  open  door 
of  the  bedroom  Duvall  caught  a  glimpse  of  Ruth, 
lying  in  bed,  the  figure  of  a  heavily-set,  bearded 
man  bending  over  her. 

"Mrs.  Bradley!"  the  clerk  exclaimed,  as  soon  as 
he  caught  sight  of  Mrs.  Morton.  "I'm  so  glad  you 
have  come.  Your  daughter  has  had  an — an  acci 
dent!" 

Mrs.  Morton  paid  scant  attention  to  his  words. 
She,  too,  had  seen  through  the  doonvay  the  figure 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  235 

of  her  daughter  lying  in  the  bed.  With  a  cry,  she 
passed  the  clerk  unnoticing,  and  went  toward  the 
bedroom  door. 

"Ruth!"  she  exclaimed,  in  an  agonized  voice, 
then  rushed  into  the  room  beyond. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WHEN   Grace   Duvall,   accompanied  by  the 
hotel  clerk,  found  Ruth  Morton  lying  on 
the  floor  in  the  parlor  of  her  suite,  her 
first  act  had  been  to  call  for  a  doctor. 

Her  second  was  to  gather  the  unconscious  girl 
in  her  arms,  and  carry  her  into  the  adjoining  bed 
room. 

That  Ruth  was  alive,  filled  Grace  with  joy.  She 
had  feared  something  far  worse  might  have  be 
fallen  the  girl.  Yet  it  was  clear  that  some  terrible 
shock  had  operated  to  reduce  her  to  the  condition 
in  which  she  had  been  found.  What  this  shock 
was,  Grace  could  only  surmise. 

She  placed  the  girl  upon  the  bed,  and  proceeded 
to  remove  her  clothing.  By  the  time  she  had  gotten 
her  beneath  the  sheets,  the  clerk  came  in,  accom 
panied  by  the  hotel  physician. 

The  latter,  after  a  hasty  examination,  turned  to 
Grace  with  a  grave  looV. 

236 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  237 

"The  young  woman  has  experienced  a  terrible 
shock  of  some  sort,"  he  said.  "She  is  very  weak, 
and  her  heart  action  is  bad."  He  took  some  tablets 
from  a  bottle  in  his  medicine  case,  and  called  for  a 
glass  of  water.  "Severe  nerve-shock  of  this  sort  is 
a  serious  matter,"  he  exclaimed.  "Sometimes  it  is 
fatal,  at  others  the  mind  may  be  permanently 
affected.  The  young  lady  must  be  kept  abso 
lutely  quiet,  of  course.  We  will  hope  for  the  best. 
Give  her  a  tablespoonful  of  this  solution  every  hour. 
Force  her  to  take  it,  even  if  she  does  not  regain 
consciousness.  I  will  look  in  again  in  an  hour  or 
two.  But  be  sure  that  she  is  kept  absolutely 
quiet." 

Grace  sat  beside  the  unconscious  girl  for  a  Jong 
time  in  silence.  Once  she  went  into  the  next  room 
and  called  up  her  hotel,  thinking  that  Richard 
might  have  returned,  but  he  had  not.  She  felt  that 
she  could  only  wait  where  she  was,  until  some  word 
came  from  Leary. 

The  clerk,  as  soon  as  Ruth  was  attended  to,  had 
hastened  down  to  the  lobby,  only  to  learn  that  the 
woman  who  had  gone  to  Miss  Bradley's  room  had 
not  been  seen. 

It  must  have  been  almost  an  hour  before  Grace 


238  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

was  informed  by  one  of  the  bellboys  that  someone 
wished  to  speak  to  her  on  the  telephone.  She  did 
not  take  the  message  in  Ruth's  room,  the  manage 
ment  having  given  instructions  that  no  calls  were 
to  be  transmitted  there  for  fear  of  arousing  the 
unconscious  girl.  She  went  quickly  downstairs  in 
the  elevator,  and  repaired  to  a  booth  in  the  lobby. 
One  of  the  maids  had  been  left  to  watch  over 
Ruth. 

The  message  was  from  Leary,  as  Grace  had 
anticipated. 

.     "Is  this  you,  Mrs.  Duvall  ?"  the  cabman  asked. 
I     "Yes.    What  have  you  discovered?" 

"The  lady  got  into  her  cab  a  little  while  after 
you  left  me,  and  drove  away.  I  followed,  as 
you  told  me  to  do.  She  drove  to  an  apartment 
on  Q6th  Street,  left  her  taxicab,  and  entered.  The 
cab  drove  away.  I'm  waiting  across  the  street, 
in  a  drug  store.  The  apartment  is  on  the  corner, 
96th  Street  and  Columbus  Avenue.  Shall  I  stay 
here?" 

"Yes.    Wait  until  I  come."    Grace  left  the  booth, 
and  hunting  up  the  clerk,  told  him  that  she  was 
obliged  to  go  out  at  once. 
,     "Mrs.   Morton  should  be  back  very  soon,"  she 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  239 

said.     "One  of  the  maids  is  sitting  with  Miss  Ruth. 
Hadn't  you  better  stay  with  her,  as  well?" 

The  clerk  nodded,  then  saw  the  doctor  coming 
through  the  lobby. 

"Here's  Dr.  Benson,"  he  said.    "I'll  send  him  up.  * 
The  young  lady  will  be  quite  safe,  until  her  mother 
comes." 

Grace  bowed  to  the  doctor,  then  hurried  out  of 
the  hotel,  and  jumping  into  a  taxi,  ordered  the 
driver  to  take  her  to  Columbus  Avenue  and  96th 
Street.  She  felt  overjoyed,  to  know  that  the  woman 
Duvall  had  been  seeking  had  at  last  been  run  to 
earth.  She  should,  Grace  determined,  not  escape  a 
second  time. 

At  96th  Street,  she  found  Leary,  impatiently  wait 
ing  for  her  in  the  doorway  of  the  corner  drug 
store  from  which  he  had  telephoned.  He  saw  her 
as  soon  as  she  left  the  cab  and,  tipping  his  cap,  came 
forward  and  joined  her. 

"She's  in  there  yet,  Miss,"  he  whispered,  jerk 
ing  his  thumb  toward  the  building  on  the  opposite 
corner. 

Grace  glanced  in  the  direction  indicated.  A  some 
what  dingy-looking  apartment  house  stood  upon  the 
corner;  its  lower  floor  occupied  by  a  florist's  shop. 


240  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

The  entrance  was  on  96th  Street.  Leaving  Leary 
on  the  opposite  corner,  she  crossed  the  street  and 
entered  the  vestibule  of  the  building. 

The  mail  boxes  on  either  side  contained  five 
names  each,  indicating  that  there  were  ten  apart 
ments  in  the  building.  Grace  looked  over  the  ad 
dresses  in  them  carefully,  but  none  of  them  meant 
anything  to  her.  None  was  at  all  familiar.  The 
name  on  the  torn  card  had  been  Ford,  but  there 
was  no  such  name  among  those  before  her.  How 
was  she  to  tell  to  which  apartment  the  woman 
had  gone?  The  situation  presented  an  interesting 
problem. 

Making  a  list  of  the  names  upon  a  visiting  card, 
Grace  determined  to  try  them  each  in  turn.  She 
had  observed  that  the  building  contained  no  ele 
vator.  She  rang  one  of  the  bells,  and  almost  at 
once  the  clicking  of  the  catch  told  her  that  the 
front  door  was  unlocked.  She  turned  the  knob  and 
entered. 

The  occupants  of  the  two  ground  floor  apartments 
were  named  Weinberg  and  Scully,  respectively. 
Grace  tried  both  doors  in  succession,  asking  for 
Mrs.  Weinberg  at  the  one,  and  for  Mrs.  Scully  at 
the  other.  In  each  case  the  woman  who  appeared 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  241 

i 
bore  no  resemblance  to  the  one  she  sought,  and 

she  was  obliged  to  pretend  that  she  had  made  a 
mistake.  The  doors  were  at  once  closed  in  her 
face. 

It  was  not  until  she  reached  the  fourth  floor  that 
success  rewarded  her  efforts.  The  left-hand  apart 
ment  on  this  floor  had  as  its  tenant  a  Miss  Norman. 
To  Grace's  delight,  she  had  scarcely  rung  the  bell, 
when  the  woman  she  had  been  following  appeared, 
wearing  a  flowered  kimona. 

She  looked  at  Grace  keenly,  suspiciously,  but 
with  no  sign  of  recognition.  Whether  she  did  not 
know  her,  or  merely  pretended  not  to  do  so,  Grace 
was  unable  to  say.  After  all,  it  made  little  differ 
ence.  Having  now  located  the  woman,  it  was 
only  necessary  to  get  away,  upon  some  pretense  or 
other,  and  telephone  to  Richard.  She  felt  highly 
elated. 

"What  do  you  want?"  the  woman  asked, 
quickly. 

"Are  you  Miss  Norman?" 

"I  am." 

"Miss  Norman,  I  have  come  to  try  to  interest 
you  in  the  work  we  are  doing  on  behalf  of  the 
suffering  people  of  Poland.  The  war,  as  you 


242  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

know "  Grace  reeled  off  this  appeal,  feeling 

quite  certain  that  the  woman  would  reject  it  at  once, 
and  thus  leave  her  free  to  go.  But  as  it  turned 
out,  Miss  Norman  did  nothing  of  the  sort. 

"I  am  always  interested  in  worthy  charities," 
she  remarked,  with  a  peculiar  smile.  "Won't  you 
come  in?"  She  held  wide  the  door. 

Grace  found  herself  in  a  quandary.  Was  this  a 
plot  to  get  her  inside  the  apartment,  or  was  the 
woman  in  earnest?  It  seemed  unlikely,  and  yet, 
Grace  feared  the  danger,  now  that  she  had  gone  so 
far,  of  arousing  the  other's  suspicions  by  a  re 
fusal. 

"I — I  will  come  in  for  a  moment,"  she  said,  and 
an  instant  later  found  herself  in  a  small,  rather 
poorly  furnished  living  room.  The  woman  closed 
the  door,  and  followed  her.  Grace  braced  herself 
for  a  possible  attack,  but  none  came. 

"Sit  down,"  her  hostess  said,  indicating  a  chair. 

"No.  It  is  too  late  for  that.  If  you  care  to  sub 
scribe  anything " 

"But  you  must  tell  me  more  about  your  work." 

"It  is  very  simple.  The  money  is  expended  by  the 
Polish  Relief  Committee,  to  relieve  the  starving  and 
destitute  sufferers  in  the  war  zone." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  243 

"I  see.  It  seems  a  worthy  charity.  I  will  think 
the  matter  over.  Suppose  you  call  again." 

Grace  began  to  breathe  more  freely. 

"I  will  do  so,  of  course,"  she  said,  moving  toward 
the  door. 

The  woman  preceded  her. 

"Let  me  open  it,"  she  said.  "The  catch  has  a 
habit  of  sticking."  She  fumbled  with  the  lock. 

Grace  was  so  completely  deceived  by  the  woman's 
actions  that  she  momentarily  relaxed  her  guard.  As 
her  companion  drew  the  door  open,  Grace  bade  her 
good  night  and  started  to  go.  The  instant  her 
back  was  turned,  she  felt  a  slender  but  muscular 
arm  slide  about  her  neck,  and  she  was  instantly 
dragged  backward,  unable,  on  account  of  the  pres 
sure  upon  her  throat,  to  utter  a  sound. 

Her  attempt  at  a  cry  for  help  was  smothered 
before  it  became  audible.  She  saw,  as  in  a  dream, 
the  woman  before  her  drive  the  door  to  with  her 
shoulder.  Then  she  was  whirled  backward  and 
thrown  violently  upon  a  low  couch. 

She  grasped  the  arm  of  her  assailant  and  strug 
gled  with  all  her  might,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
woman  bent  over  her,  her  hands  at  her  throat. 
Grace's  brain  reeled.  Everything  seemed  black 


244  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

before  her  eyes.  She  gasped,  trying  in  vain  to 
breathe,  but  the  fingers  upon  her  throat  were  mo 
mentarily  tightening.  Then,  almost  before  she 
realized  it,  the  objects  in  the  room  swam  vaguely 
before  her  eyes,  and  she  lost  consciousness. 


PART  IV 

CHAPTER  XVII 

DUVALL,  on  his  arrival  with  Mrs.  Morton 
at  her  apartment,  lost  no  time  in  finding 
out  from  the  clerk  just  what  had  happened. 
The   story,   pieced   together,   confirmed   his   worst 
suspicions. 

The  woman,  after  escaping  from  the  house  at 
162  West  57th  Street,  had  gone  at  once  to  Ruth's 
hotel,  followed  by  Grace.  Here  she  had  interviewed 
Mrs.  Morton,  represented  herself  as  Grace  Duvall, 
and  induced  Mrs.  Morton  to  leave  the  hotel  by 
giving  her  a  fictitious  message  purporting  to  be 
from  himself. 

Returning,  later,  to  the  hotel,  she  had  gone  to 
Ruth  Morton's  room  and  attacked  her.  The  nature 
of  that  attack,  the  effect  upon  the  girl,  were  as  yet 
uncertain.  Ruth  Morton  was  still  unconscious. 

Meanwhile,  as  he  learned  from  the  clerk,  Grace 
had  received  a  telephone  message  and  hurriedly  left 

245 


246  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  hotel.  The  clerk  did  not  know  from  whom  the 
message  had  come. 

Duvall  went  to  Ruth  Morton's  bedroom,  and 
called  the  doctor  aside. 

"What  is  the  exact  nature  of  Miss  Morton's  in 
juries?"  he  asked. 

"She  has  no  injuries,  at  least  in  the  sense  I  think 
you  mean.  She  is  suffering  solely  from  the  effects 
of  shock." 

"What  sort  of  shock?" 

"I  do  not  know,  of  course.  Fright,  of  some  sort, 
terrible  fright,  I  should  say.  I  am  informed  that 
some  woman,  some  enemy  of  hers,  came  to  this 
room,  and  was  alone  with  her." 

"There  is  no  evidence  of  any  violence?" 

"None  whatever.  But  the  effects  of  shock  are 
often  worse  than  those  of  actual  physical  violence. 
They  have  frequently  been  known  to  cause  death." 

"You  do  not,  I  hope,  anticipate  anything  of  the 
sort  in  this  case." 

"I  cannot  say."  The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "She 
must  have  been  very  weak.  Her  system  is  respond 
ing  very  slowly." 

Duvall  glanced  over  to  where  Mrs.  Morton  hung 
in  agonized  silence  over  her  daughter's  bed,  then 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  247 

went  out  into  the  sitting  room.  It  seemed  to  him 
well  nigh  incredible  that  the  woman  responsible  for 
all  this  had  been  able  to  move  about,  to  elude  pur 
suit,  to  carry  out  her  threats,  apparently  without 
the  least  hesitation  or  fear  of  capture.  .His  pro 
fessional  pride  had  received  severe  shock. 

Two  means  of  finding  the  woman,  he  felt,  were 
still  open  to  him.  One  was  to  trace  her  through 
Miss  Ford.  He  did  not  doubt  that,  after  what 
he  had  said  to  the  latter,  she  would  make  an  imme 
diate  attempt  to  warn  her  confederate  of  the  dan 
ger  that  threatened  her.  Of  course,  the  Ford  girl 
might  communicate  with  her  companion  by  tele 
phone,  in  which  event  the  tracing  would  be  difficult, 
if  not  impossible. 

The  other  hope  of  tracing  the  woman  lay  in 
Grace.  Why  had  she  left  the  hotel  so  suddenly? 
He  did  not  of  course  know  the  source  of  the  tele 
phone  message,  and  could  only  surmise  that  Grace 
had  in  some  way  been  able  to  pick  up  the  woman's 
trail. 

Leaving  Mrs.  Morton  with  a  few  words  of  en 
couragement,  he  made  his  way  to  his  hotel.  There 
was  no  news  there  of  Grace,  however,  and  he  real- 
.ized  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  accomplish  anything 


248  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

by  returning  to  the  house  on  5/th  Street.  Marcia 
Ford  would  either  have  long  since  retired,  or  else 
would  have  left  the  house  to  communicate  with  the 
woman  who  had  been  with  her  earlier  in  the  even 
ing.  Considerably  upset  by  the  events  of  the  past 
three  hours,  Duvall  retired  to  his  room,  and  sat 
down  to  think  the  whole  matter  over. 

Proceeding  on  the  assumption  that  the  woman  in 
question,  and  Miss  Ford  were  acting  together,  all 
the  events  at  the  studio,  the  fake  telegram,  the  miss 
ing  photograph,  became  intelligible.  But  the  de 
livery  of  the  letters  in  Ruth  Morton's  apartment, 
the  strange  attack  upon  him  while  searching  the 
Ford  girl's  room,  were  by  no  means  so  clear.  Once 
more  his  thoughts  reverted  to  the  attic  room,  the 
roof  of  the  adjoining  house,  the  problem  of  effect 
ing  an  entrance  to  the  Morton  apartment  through 
either  of  the  two  windows. 

And  then,  as  he  revolved  the  problem  in  his  mind, 
a  sudden  light  came  to  him.  He  sprang  from  his 
chair  with  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction.  A  solu 
tion  of  the  whole  matter  flashed  through  his  brain, 
a  solution  at  once  so  simple,  and  so  ingenious,  that 
he  wondered  he  had  not  thought  of  it  before. 

He  glanced  at  his  watch.    It  was  midnight.    Too 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  249 

late,  perhaps,  to  test  the  accuracy  of  his  deductions. 
Nor  did  he  feel  at  all  easy  in  his  mind  regarding 
Grace.  Something  must  have  happened  to  her,  he 
feared,  to  keep  her  out  so  late,  with  no  word  to  him 
concerning  her  movements.  He  went  to  the  'phone, 
and  calling  up  the  office,  inquired  whether  anything 
had  been  heard  of  Mrs.  Duvall. 

"No,"  the  night  clerk  informed  him.  Mrs. 
Duvall  had  not  been  heard  from,  nor  had  she  sent 
any  message.  But  a  note  had  just  been  left  for  her. 
He  would  send  it  up. 

Duvall  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  note  with  the 
utmost  impatience.  A  message  for  Grace.  From 
whom?  What  could  it  mean?  A  few  moments 
later  one  of  the  bellboys  thrust  into  his  hand  a 
letter,  written  on  the  note  paper  of  the  hotel. 

He  regarded  the  scrawling  and  ill-written  super 
scription  with  apprehension,  then  tore  open  the  en 
velope  and  proceeded  to  read  the  contents  of  the 
note. 

j  "Dear  Madam,"  it  said.  "I  waited  till  nearly 
midnight.  When  you  did  not  come,  I  thought  you 
must  have  gone  out  some  other  way,  so  came  back 
to  the  hotel.  I  hope  I  did  right.  Respectfully 
yours,  Martin  Leary." 


x>so  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  stared  at  the  words  before  him  with  a 
look  of  alarm.  Who  was  Martin  Leary?  And 
where  had  he  waited  for  Grace  until  nearly 
midnight?  And,  above  all,  why  had  she  not 
returned?  Had  some  accident,  some  danger  be 
fallen  her?  The  circumstances  made  it  seem  highly 
probable. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  do — to  question  the 
night  clerk,  and  find  out,  if  possible,  who  Leary 
was.  He  rushed  to  the  elevator  and  made  his  way 
to  the  lobby  with  all  speed. 

"Who  left  this  note  for  Mrs.  Duvall  ?"  he  asked 
of  the  clerk. 

"Why" —  the  man  paused  for  a  moment — "one 
of  the  cabmen,  I  believe." 

"Is  his  name  Leary — Martin  Leary?" 

"Yes.  It  was  Leary,  come  to  think  of  it.  Noth 
ing  wrong,  I  hope,  Mr..  Duvall." 

"I'll  know  later.    Where  is  Leary  now?" 

"Couldn't  say,  sir.  You  might  ask  the  cab 
starter?" 

Almost  before  the  clerk  had  finished  speaking, 
Duvall  had  darted  across  the  lobby  and  made  his 
way  to  the  taxi  cab  office  at  the  door. 

"Taxi,  sir  ?"  the  man  asked. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  251' 

"Do  you  know  a  chauffeur  named  Martin 
Leary?"  exclaimed  Duvall. 

"Yes,  sir.    One  of  our  regular  men,  sir." 

"Where  is  he?" 
i.     The  starter  glanced  along  the  row  of  taxicabs. 

"He's  turned  in  for  the  night,  sir.  Left  for  the 
garage  some  time  ago.  He's  been  on  duty  since 
early  this  morning." 

"Where  is  the  garage?" 

"On  Lexington  Avenue,  sir,  near  3Oth  Street" 

"Does  Leary  sleep  there  ?" 

"No,  sir.  I  don't  think  so,  sir.  They  would 
know  at  the  garage,  I  guess." 

"Very  well.  Get  me  a  cab.  I  want  to  be  taken 
there  at  once." 

The  starter  called  to  one  of  the  drivers,  and  a 
few  moments  later  Duvall  was  being  driven  at  a 
rapid  rate  toward  the  garage. 

His  inquiries,  on  his  arrival  there,  developed  the 
fact  that  Leary  had  left  for  his  home,  on  Second 
Avenue,  some  little  time  before.  Duvall  secured 
the  address,  and  once  more  set  out. 

He  felt  greatly  alarmed  at  Grace's  failure  to  put 
in  an  appearance.  Something  must  have  happened 
to  her.  Clearly  the  case  was  going  very  much 


252  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

against  him — the  woman's  second  escape — the  at 
tack  on  Ruth  Morton — now  the  disappearance  of 
Grace.  He  felt  that  the  time  had  come  for  action 
of  a  quick  and  drastic  nature. 

Leary  lived  with  his  wife  and  two  children  on  the 
third  floor  of  a  Second  Avenue  tenement.  Hastily 
climbing  the  two  flights  of  dark  steps,  Duvall  rapped 
on  the  door.  He  was  overjoyed,  when  it  was  opened 
by  a  man  whom  he  judged  to  be  the  chauffeur  him 
self. 

"Are  you  Martin  Leary  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir."  The  man  wiped  his  mouth  with  the 
back  of  his  hand,  choking  down  a  bit  of  cold  supper 
he  had  been  eating,  before  turning  in. 

"I  am  Richard  Duvall.  You  drove  my  wife  up 
town,  somewhere,  did  you  not?" 

"Yes,  sir.  To  Columbus  Avenue  and  Ninety- 
sixth  Street,  sir.  Won't  you  come  in?" 

"No.  There  isn't  time.  I  want  you  to  put  on 
your  coat  and  come  along  with  me.  Mrs.  Duvall 
has  not  returned,  and  I  am  afraid  something  has 
happened  to  her." 

The  man  turned  and  called  to  someone  inside  the 
fiat. 

"Gimme  my  hat  and  coat,  Kitty,"  he  said,  then 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  253 

turned  again  to  Duvall.  "I  suppose  I  should  have 
waited,  sir,  but  after  two  hours  went  by,  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  Mrs.  Duvall  didn't  need  me  any 
longer." 

"What  is  the  building  at  Columbus  Avenue  and 
96th  Street?"  Duvall  asked,  as  the  man,  pulling 
on  the  coat  his  wife  handed  him,  strode  down  the 
hall. 

"An  apartment  building,  sir." 
-.     "And  why  did  Mrs.  Duvall  go  there?" 

"Well,  sir,  we  was  following  a  woman,  sir.  She 
went  to  a  hotel  on  Seventy-second  Street,  and  Mrs. 
Duvall  told  me  to  watch  for  her.  I  did,  and  tracked 
her  to  the  place  at  g6th  Street.  Then  I  telephoned 
to  Mrs.  Duvall  to  come,  and  she  did." 

"What  time  was  that?" 
:     "About  half-past  nine,  sir." 

"All  right.    Goon." 

:  "Mrs.  Duvall  came,  sir,  in  another  taxi.  I  pointed 
out  the  place  where  the  woman  went  in,  and  Mrs. 
Duvall  went  in  after  her.  She  didn't  say  I  was  to 
wait,  but  I  guess  she  expected  me  to,  because  she 
had  sent  the  other  cab  away.  I  waited  over  two 
hours,  and  then,  when  she  didn't  come  out,  I  sup 
posed  she  had  returned  to  her  hotel,  so  I  came  back, 


254  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

too.     She  wasn't  there,  though.     That's  why  I  left 
the  note." 

"How  did  you  think  Mrs.  Duvall  could  have 
gotten  back  to  her  hotel,  if  you  were  watching 

the  door  of  the  apartment  house  all  the  time?" 

>, 

"I  wasn't  watching  it  all  the  time,  sir.  I  went 
into  the  drug  store  once,  sir,  and  got  a  cigar.  And 
then,  later  on,  I  went  to  a  saloon  a  piece  down  the 
Avenue  and  got  a  glass  of  beer.  Mrs.  Duvall  didn't 
say  I  was  to  watch  the  place,  sir.  I  thought  when 
she  got  through  what  she  had  to  do,  she  would  come 
back  to  the  cab.  But  she  didn't.  Do  you  think  I 
ought  to  have  waited,  sir?"  The  man  seemed 
greatly  distressed. 

"No  use  talking  about  that  now,"  Duvall  re 
marked,  shortly.  "I  want  to  drive  there  at  once. 
Get  on  the  box,  with  the  chauffeur,  and  point  out 
the  place  to  him." 

"Yes,  sir."  A  moment  later  they  had  started  on 
their  way  uptown. 

Knowing  as  he  did  Grace's  impetuous  nature, 
Duvall  could  only  conclude  that  her  pursuit  of  the 
woman  had  led  her  into  some  trap.  What  danger 
she  might  at  this  moment  be  facing,  he  could  only 
surmise. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  255 

The  apartment  building,  when  they  finally  reached 
it,  presented  a  grim  and  forbidding  appearance. 
Not  a  light  broke  the  darkness  of  any  of  its  win 
dows.  The  drug  store  on  the  opposite  corner,  too, 
was  closed  for  the  night.  The  whole  locality  was 
dark  and  silent. 

"There's  the  place,  sir,"  Leary  exclaimed,  as  they 
drew  up  to  the  corner. 

"Tell  the  driver  to  stop  a  few  doors  up  the  block 
— not  right  in  front  of  the  building." 

Leary  nodded.  Presently  the  cab  stopped,  and  he 
and  Duvall  got  out. 

The  detective's  first  move  was  to  ascertain 
whether  or  not  the  building  had  any  rear  exit,  by 
which  Grace  might  have  left,  without  being  seen 
by  Leary.  He  walked  down  the  avenue  to  its  rear 
wall,  only  to  find  that  it  abutted  against  the 
wall  of  the  next  building.  There  was  no  rear 
entrance. 

If,  then,  Grace  had  not  left  the  place  during  the 
past  hour,  she  must  still  be  in  one  of  the  ten  flats, 
that  formed  the  five  floors  of  the  building.  But 
which  one?  That,  apparently,  was  the  problem  he 
had  to  solve. 

It  would  be  useless,  he  felt,  to  inquire  at  the 


256  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

doors  of  the  various  apartments  at  this  hour  of  the 
morning.  Admission,  at  least  on  the  part  of  those 
he  sought,  would  certainly  be  refused.  Yet  he  felt 
that  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

Stationing  Leary  before  the  front  door,  with  in 
structions  to  keep  a  careful  watch,  Duvall  went  into 
the  vestibule,  and  by  means  of  his  pocket  light, 
inspected  the  names  of  the  occupants  of  the 
building,  as  Grace  had  done  a  short  time  before. 
The  hallway  inside  was  dark,  with  the  exception 
of  a  dim  light  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  Ap 
parently  the  place  boasted  no  elevator  or  hall-boy 
service. 

The  ten  names  on  the  boxes  in  the  vestibule  meant 
nothing  to  him.  How  was  it  possible  to  determine 
which  one  was  that  of  the  woman  he  sought? 
Weinberg — Scully — Martin — Stone — he  ran  down 
the  list,  trying  to  find  some  distinguishing  mark, 
some  clue,  that  would  guide  him. 

Suddenly  he  paused,  allowing  the  light  from  his 
torch  to  rest  upon  the  card  bearing  the  name  of  one 
of  the  tenants  on  the  fourth  floor. 

This  card  had  attracted  his  attention,  because  it 
was  different  from  any  of  the  others  in  the  two 
racks.  They  were  either  engraved  or  printed  visit- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  257 

ing  cards,  stuck  inside  the  brass  frames  provided 
for  them,  or  the  names  were  written  or  printed  by 
hand  upon  blank  cards.  But  this  card,  bearing 
simply  the  inscription  E.  W.  Norman,  was. neither 
engraved  nor  printed,  nor  written  by  hand.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  typewritten. 

This  in  itself  at  once  attracted  Duvall's  attention, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  the  various  letters  received 
by  Ruth  Morton  had  also  all  been  typewritten.  If 
the  name,  Norman,  was  an  assumed  one,  as  Duvall 
concluded  it  to  be,  what  more  natural  than  that  & 
should  be  typewritten  on  a  blank  card,  especially 
when  a  regular  printed  or  engraved  card  was  not 
available;  when  to  have  it  written  in  long  hand 
would  have  been  a  disclosure  of  identity,  and  when, 
above  all,  the  woman  in  question  possessed,  and 
knew  how  to  operate,  a  typewriter. 

There  was  more  than  this,  however,  about  the 
name  on  the  card,  to  convince  Duvall  that  E.  W. 
Norman  was  the  woman  he  sought.  He  recalled 
with  distinctness  the  two  salient  features  of  the  type 
writing  in  all  the  letters  sent  to  Miss  Morton, 
the  misplaced  "a,"  and  the  broken  lower  right- 
hand  corner  of  the  capital  "W."  He  looked 
closely  at  the  two  letters  in  the  name  before  him. 


253  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

The  "at"  was  misplaced,  the  "W"  minus  its  lower 
right-hand  corner.  The  eridence  seemed  to  be 
complete. 

The  next  thing  to  be  considered  was,  how  could 
he  first  obtain  entrance  to  the  apartment  building, 
and,  subsequently,  to  the  flat  of  the  woman  posing 
as  E.  W.  Norman?  Were  he  to  ring  the  latter's 
bell,  he  felt  quite  sure  she  would  not  respond  by 
unfastening  the  front  door,  but  she  would  on  the 
contrary  be  warned,  and  even  if  unable  to  escape, 
might  destroy  the  evidence  he  hoped  to  find  in  her 
possession. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  ring  the  bell  of  one  of  the 
other  apartments  might  result  in  the  unlatching  of 
the  front  door,  but  might  involve  explanations,  dif 
ficult,  in  the  circumstances,  to  make.  There  was 
no  help  for  it,  however.  Duvall  pressed  the  bell 
belonging  to  the  family  named  Scully. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  there  was  any  response. 
Duvall  had  almost  begun  to  despair  of  getting  one, 
jwhen  he  heard  the  clicking  of  the  electric  latch, 
and  found  that  he  could  turn  the  knob  and  enter 
the  hallway. 

He  had  barely  done  so,  when  a  big,  burly-looking 
man,  who  might  have  been  a  bartender,  or  a  head 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  259 

waiter,  appeared  in  the  door  of  one  of  the  ground 
floor  apartments,  clad  only  in  his  night  clothes. 

"Well — whatcha  want?"  he  growled. 

Duvall  stepped  up  to  him  quickly,  and  spoke  in  a 
pleasant  voice. 

"I'm  mighty  sorry,"  he  said.  "I  rang  your  bell 
bj  mistake.  Pardon  me." 

The  man  glared  at  him,  suspicion  blazing  from  his 
eyes. 

"That's  an  old  one,"  he  retorted.  "How  do  I 
know  you  ain't  a  burglar?" 

"Do  I  look  like  one?"  Duvall  asked. 

The  man  ignored  this  question. 

"Rang  my  bell  by  mistake,  did  you  ?  Who  do  you 
want  to  see?" 

"I  have  some  business  with  a  lady  on  the  fourth 
floor."  He  went  closer  to  the  man,  and  lowered  his 
voice.  "I'm  a  detective,  my  friend,"  he  whispered 
confidentially.  "I'm  here  on  a  very  important 
case." 

The  big  man's  eyes  widened. 

"Th'  hell  you  are!"  he  exclaimed.  "Central 
office?" 

"No.    Private." 

"H— m."    The  man  nodded  slowly.     "All  right. 


260  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

But  I  guess  I'll  keep  my  eye  on  you,  just  the  same." 
He  leaned  against  the  door  jamb  and  watched 
Duvall  as  he  ascended  the  stairs. 

The  detective  reached  the  fourth  floor  at  top 
speed.  He  was  panting,  wh^n  he  arrived  opposite 
the  door  of  the  apartment  he  sought.  Once 
there,  he  paused  for  a  moment,  listening  intently. 
Not  a  sound  came  from  the  interior  of  the 
flat. 

The  problem  of  obtaining  access  to  the  place  now 
confronted  him.  The  door  was  of  oak  of  stout 
construction.  He  doubted  his  ability  to  break  it  in. 
nor  did  he  wish  to  attempt  to  do  so,  if  it  could  be 
avoided.  Breaking  into  private  apartments,  with 
out  a  warrant,  was  a  serious  matter.  There  was  a 
chance  that  this  might  not  be  the  right  place,  after 
all.  He  hesitated.  Yet  Grace  might  be  within, 
in  danger,  perhaps,  of  her  life.  It  was  imperative 
that  he  should  find  out  the  truth  at  once. 

Stepping  up  to  the  door,  he  knocked  sharply  upon 
it,  then  waited  for  a  reply.  He  scarcely  expected 
one,  but  felt  that  he  should  at  least  give  the  persons 
within  a  chance. 

A  long  silence  ensued.  Duvall  was  about  to  rap 
again,  when,  to  his  amazement,  the  door  slowly  and 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  261 

noiselessly  swung  inward,  as  though  impelled  by 
some  unseen  hand. 

The  room  beyond  was  shrouded  in  darkness. 
Duvall  could  see  no  one.  Whoever  had  opened  the 
door  must  now  be  concealed  behind  it.  No  one 
either  greeted  or  challenged  him.  The  door  swung 
three-quarters  open,  and  stood  still.  Not  a  sound 
was  to  be  heard.  The  room  was  as  silent  as  a 
tomb. 

Duvall  stood  on  the  threshold  for  a  few  seconds, 
listening  intently.  He  was  greatly  astonished  by 
what  had  occurred.  Why  had  the  door  been  so 
silently  opened?  Was  someone  waiting  within, 
ready  to  attack  him  the  moment  he  made  a  step 
forward  ? 

Whether  this  was  the  case  or  not,  nothing,  he 
reflected,  was  to  be  gained  by  remaining  where  he 
was.  Drawing  an  automatic  pistol  from  his  pocket, 
he  held  it  in  readiness  in  his  right  hand,  then,  rais 
ing  his  left  arm,  he  flung  his  entire  weight  against 
the  partly  opened  door. 

The  door  yielded  to  his  attack.  Then  there  came 
a  dull  thud,  as  though  some  heavy  body  had  fallen 
to  the  floor,  and  immediately  after  the  hallway 
resounded  with  a  series  of  unearthly  screams. 


262  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

Duvall  still  moved  forward.  Then,  to  his  utter 
surprise,  there  appeared  in  the  darkness  a  grotesque 
figure,  which  immediately  hurled  itself  upon  him 
and  began  to  clutch  frantically  at  his  throat 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

IT  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  feelings  of 
Grace  Duvall  when,  after  having  traced  the 
mysterious  woman  who  had  attacked  Ruth 
Morton,  to  the  flat  at  Columbus  Avenue  and  Ninety- 
sixth  Street,  she  had  foolishly  entered  the  place, 
and  allowed  herself  to  be  attacked. 

The  woman's  onslaught  had  been  so  sudden,  so 
unexpected,  that  Grace  was  entirely  unable  to  offer 
any  defense. 

Her  cries  for  help  had  been  smothered  at  once 
and  with  the  woman's  thin  but  muscular  fingers 
clutching  at  her  throat,  she  found  herself  forced 
violently  back  upon  a  low  couch  that  stood  immedi 
ately  behind  her. 

For  a  few  moments  she  struggled  violently,  striv 
ing  with  both  her  hands  to  break  her  assailant's 
hold  upon  her,  but  her  efforts  were  in  vain.  Slowly 
she  realized  that  she  was  being  choked  into  uncon 
sciousness.  The  objects  in  the  room,  the  woman's 

26S 


264  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

set  face,  whirled  dimly  before  her  eyes,  and  then 
everything  became  blank. 

When  she  once  more  recovered  consciousness, 
she  found  herself  still  lying  upon  the  couch.  Her 
throat  ached  fearfully,  and  there  was  a  dull  roaring 
in  her  head. 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  about.  The  room 
was  quite  dark.  Only  a  very  faint  glow  came 
through  the  windows  at  its  further  end — the  dim 
reflection  of  the  lights  in  the  street.  So  far  as  she 
could  determine,  she  was  alone. 

She  tried  to  move  her  arms,  her  feet,  but  found 
them  bound  fast.  A  moment  later  she  realized  that 
a  piece  of  cloth  of  some  sort,  tightly  rolled,  had 
been  forced  into  her  mouth.  She  could  not  utter  a 
sound. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  room,  but  from  the  one 
which  adjoined  it  in  the  rear  came  the  murmur  of 
voices. 

By  twisting  her  head  about  she  was  able  to  learn 
that  the  door  connecting  the  two  was  ajar,  and 
through  the  narrow  opening  came  a  thin  ribbon  o£ 
light. 

As  her  senses  became  clearer,  she  realized  that 
two  persons  were  in  the  room  beyond  her,  and  from 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  265 

the  sounds  they  made,  the  words  which  from  time 
to  time  came  to  her  ears,  it  appeared  that  they  were 
engaged  in  the  operation  of  packing. 

At  first  the  words  that  filtered  through  the  partly 
open  doorway  were  mere  fragments  of  conversation 
— words  spoken  here  and  there  in  a  slightly  higher 
key,  and  therefore  distinguishable  to  her.  She  made 
out  that  her  captors  supposed  her  to  be  still  uncon 
scious — that  they  were  preparing  to  leave  the  place. 

"There's  no  hurry,"  she  presently  heard  one  of 
the  women  say,  in  a  somewhat  louder  voice.  "If 
she  had  had  friends  waiting  outside  for  her,  they 
would  have  come  to  her  rescue  long  ago.  I'm  sure 
nobody  knows  where  she  is." 

"And  her  husband  had  gone,  long  before  I  left 
the  house.  I  was  watching,  and  he  first  went  to  a 
saloon  on  the  corner,  and  then  drove  off  in  a  taxicab. 
So  I  couldn't  have  been  followed  here." 

"No.  But  I  think  we  ought  to  get  away  as  soon 
as  possible.  When  does  that  train  go?" 

"Not  until  half  past  five." 

"We'll  have  to  wait  in  the  station,  then." 

"Why  not  here?" 

"Because  that  woman's  husband,  when  she  fails 
to  return  to-night,  is  certain  to  look  for  her.  She 


266  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

probably  came  in  a  cab,  and  he  might  trace  her  that 
way.  My  advice  is  to  leave  here  as  soon  as  possible. 
Have  you  finished  packing  that  suit  case?" 

"No,  not  quite.  What  do  you  propose  to  do  with 
Jack?" 

"I  was  going  to  take  him  with  me." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  that"" 

"Why  not?" 

"Because,  if  any  attempt  is  made  to  follow  us,  he 
would  be  a  certain  means  of  identification." 

There  was  silence  for  a  time.  Grace  heard  the 
sounds  of  drawers  being  opened  and  shut,  as  the 
two  women  hurried  through  their  task.  Who  was 
Jack,  she  wondered?  There  had  been  no  sounds  to 
indicate  the  presence  of  a  third  person  in  the  next 
room. 

Presently  she  heard  the  voices  again. 

"I  think  the  whole  affair  has  been  a  mistake,  any 
way,"  one  of  them  said  petulantly.  "I  don't  see 
what  you  have  gained  by  it." 

"I've  gotten  my  revenge  on  that  baby-faced 
Morton  girl.  The  stuck-up  thing.  I'll  bet  she  won't 
act  again  in  a  hurry.  What  right  has  she  to  be 
getting  a  thousand  a  week,  when  they  wouldn't  give 
me  a  chance  at  any  price.  I  may  not  be  as  good- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  267 

looking  as  she  is,  but  I'm  a  better  actress.  I  hate 
her.  I  believe  she  told  the  director  I  wouldn't  do — 
that's  why  I  didn't  get  the  job.  And  after  running 
down  to  the  studio  every  day  for  three  weeks,  too. 
I  hate  her,  I  tell  you.>  I  hope  she's  never  able  to 
act  again."  The  woman  spoke  with  an  intensity,  a 
violence  that  made  Grace  shudder. 

"How  do  you  ever  suppose  they  came  to  con 
nect  me  with  the  matter?"  the  other  woman  said 
after  a  time.  "They  didn't  know  my  address,  at 
the  studio.  And  even  if  they  had,  I  have  never  been 
seen  with  you.  I  don't  see  why  they  ever  suspected 
me." 

"I  don't  know.  That  man  Duvall  is  pretty 
shrewd,  though.  I  did  manage  to  get  away  from 
him,  the  other  night.  I'd  like  to  have  seen  his 
face,  when  he  got  back  to  the  cab  and  found  me 
gone." 

"His  wife  followed  you  here,  from  the  hotel,  I 
suppose.  You  took  an  awful  chance." 

"I  don't  understand  how  she  traced  me.  I  knew 
she  was  following  me,  and  when  she  saw  me  go 
up  in  the  elevator,  at  the  hotel,  I  expected  her  to 
come,  too.  I  was  afraid  they  might  prevent  me 
from  coming  down,  while  they  were  coming  up,  so 


268  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

I  walked  down.  I  watched,  from  the  stairs,  and 
saw  her  and  the  clerk  get  out  of  the  elevator  on 
the  floor  where  that  girl's  apartment  was.  Then  I 
came  down  the  stairs  and  went  out  the  side  entrance. 
I  knew  she  was  upstairs,  when  I  left,  and  I  don't 
see  how  she  traced  me." 

"Perhaps  she  had  her  taxi  driver  do  it." 

"That's  just  about  it.  And  if  he  did,  like  as  not 
he's  waiting  for  her  yet." 

The  other  woman  laughed. 

"Nice  wait  he'll  have,"  she  said. 

"That's  all  very  well,  but  won't  he  see  us  going 
out?" 

"Suppose  he  does.  Anyway,  it's  dark,  and  we'll 
wear  veils.  And  we  won't  go  out  together.  But 
I  don't  think  he'll  wait  so  long." 

"If  he  doesn't,  he'll  go  back  to  the  hotel  and 
report,  and  then  the  woman's  husband  will  be  up 
here  in  no  time.  I  think  we'd  better  get  out  now. 
You'll  have  to  leave  the  trunk.  There's  nothing 
much  in  it." 

Again  there  was  a  long  silence.  Then  Grace 
heard  the  door  open,  and  the  two  women  came  into 
the  room,  carrying  their  suitcases.  She  closed  her 
eyes  and  pretended  to  be  still  unconscious. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  269 

One  of  the  women  paused  beside  her. 

"If  they  don't  find  out  where  she  is,"  she  whis 
pered  to  her  companion,  "she's  likely  to  stay  here 
and  starve  to  death." 

"I  shouldn't  be  sorry,"  the  other  snarled.  "But 
if  you  feel  badly  about  it,  it's  easy  enough  to  tele 
phone  to-morrow  and  tell  the  janitor  to  let  her  out. 
No  chance  of  a  cab,  I  guess." 

"No.  Not  at  this  hour.  We'll  take  the  car  down 
to  Forty-second  Street,  and  cross  over.  Are  you 
ready?" 

"Yes.     I'd  better  put  out  the  light,  though." 
i 

"All  right."    The  first  woman  moved  to  the  door, 

while  the  second  returned  to  the  bedroom  and 
snapped  off  the  light.  A  moment  later  Grace  saw 
her  ghostly  figure  pass  the  couch,  and  then  the 
snapping  of  the  door  catch  told  her  that  she  was 
alone. 

•  The  thought  was  anything  but  a  pleasant  one.  If 
Richard  did  not  happen  to  remember  Leary — she 
knew  she  had  mentioned  him  in  connection  with  the 
address  on  the  torn  card  he  had  given  her — it  was 
by  no  means  impossible  that  she  might  lie  where 
she  was,  helpless,  for  days.  And  in  that  event, 
starvation,  or  what  was  worse,  thirst,  might  very 


270  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

readily  serve  to  fulfil  the  woman's  predictions.  She 
shivered  at  the  thought  of  spending  hours,  days,  in 
this  place  alone. 

But  was  she  alone  ?  Until  now,  she  had  supposed 
so,  in  spite  of  the  woman's  remarks  about  "Jack," 
for  she  had  heard  not  the  slightest  sound.  Presently 
she  became  aware  of  a  slow,  regular  scraping 
sound,  that  seemed  to  come  from  one  of  the  rear 
rooms.  It  suggested  something  alive,  something 
moving  about  with  stealthy  footsteps.  Then,  all  of 
a  sudden,  there  came  a  loud  crash. 

Grace  gave  an  involuntary  cry,  or  what  would 
have  been  a  cry,  had  she  not  been  so  effectually 
gagged.  The  knowledge  that  she  lay  helpless,  un 
able  to  protect  herself  from  attack,  frightened  her. 
She  turned  her  head,  straining  her  eyes  into  the 
semi-darkness.  Something,  some  figure,  was  mov 
ing  toward  her  from  the  bedroom,  gliding  along 
with  swaying,  noiseless  steps.  What  it  was,  she 
could  not  determine;  from  its  appearance  against 
the  darkness  of  the  doorway  it  looked  like  a  crawl 
ing  figure  in  black. 

Presently  she  heard  the  sound  of  breathing,  and 
with  it  a  mumbling  noise,  as  though  the  apparition 
were  talking  to  itself.  Two  eyes  seemed  to  gleam 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  271 

through  the  darkness.  There  was  a  hissing  yet  gut 
tural  sound,  human  in  quality,  yet  horrible  to  her 
ears. 

And  then,  without  warning,  the  figure  sprang  to 
ward  her,  and  flung  its  arms  about  her  neck. 

With  a  gasp  of  fear,  Grace  turned  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  pillows.  Fingers  seemed  clutching 
at  her  hair.  An  arm,  wearing  a  silken  sleeve, 
brushed  her  cheek,  lay  across  her  throat.  A  low 
voice  muttered  unintelligibly  in  her  ear,  filling  her 
with  horror.  She  felt  her  senses  reeling.  She 
thought  herself  about  to  faint. 

Then,  in  a  moment,  the  creature  was  gone,  and 
she  heard  it  moving  noisily  about  the  further  end 
of  the  room. 

From  time  to  time  there  came  a  crash,  as  though 
in  the  darkness  it  had  upset  something.  Then 
would  follow  long,  uncanny  periods  of  stillness, 
broken  only  by  the  horrible  muttering.  She  lay 
with  her  head  buried  in  the  pillows,  wondering  at 
what  instant  the  figure  would  again  appear  at  her 
side. 

For  a  long  time  she  remained  thus,  straining  her 
ears  to  keep  track  of  the  creature's  movements. 
And  as  the  moments  passed,  she  began  to  take  cour- 


272  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

age,  to  hope  that  since  no  harm  had  as  yet  been 
offered  her,  the  thing  in  the  room,  whatever  it  was, 
might  not  come  near  her  again. 

It  appeared  to  have  crept  to  the  door,  and  from 
it  came  a  low,  quite  human  whimpering,  as  though 
it  were  in  great  grief.  Perhaps,  Grace  thought, 
this  was  caused  by  the  absence  of  the  two  women. 
She  lay  quite  still,  trying  vainly  to  free  her  hands 
from  their  encircling  bands,  praying  silently  that 
Richard  would  come  to  her  assistance.  Her  nerves 
were  badly  shaken.  She  contemplated  hours,  even 
days  of  such  a  situation  with  terror.  At  least,  how 
ever,  the  coming  of  the  dawn  would  bring  one 
relief.  She  would  be  able  to  see  what  this  uncanny 
thing  was  that  shared  her  captivity. 

Suddenly  she  became  aware  that  some  one  was 
ascending  the  stairs  in  the  hall  outside.  Could  it 
be  Richard  coming  to  her  assistance  ?  She  strained 
her  ears,  fearing  that  it  might  be  only  one  of  the 
tenants  of  the  apartment  above,  returning  home  at 
a  late  hour. 

The  creature  at  the  door  had  apparently  also 
heard  the  approaching  sound,  for  its  whimperings 
ceased.  Grace  could  tell  by  its  movements  that  it 
had  risen.  There  was  a  faint  sound  of  fingers 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  273 

sliding  over  the  polished  surface  of  the  door.  The 
steps  outside  came  to  a  halt. 

With  all  her  force  Grace  tried  to  cry  out,  but  the 
gag  prevented  her  from  uttering  a  sound.  Then 
there  came  a  sharp  knocking  at  the  door. 

The  figure  before  it  seemed  to  be  fumbling  noise 
lessly  with  the  catch.  In  a  moment  Grace  felt, 
rather  than  saw,  that  the  door  had  been  opened. 
Another  interval  of  silence  came,  and  then  the  per 
son  outside  flung  himself  heavily  forward. 

The  silence  of  the  room  was  broken  by  a  fall, 
a  succession  of  unearthly  screams.  Grace  saw  a 
dark  body  go  hurtling  through  the  air,  and  then 
came  the  sharp,  vicious  crack  of  a  pistol.  The  next 
thing  she  saw  was  her  husband,  bending  over  her, 
flashing  an  electric  torch  in  her  face.  With  fright 
ened  eyes  she  looked  up  at  him  and  tried  to  smile. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  first  thing  that  Duvall  did,  after  releasing 
Grace  from  her  bonds,  was  to  take  her  in 
his  arms  and  kiss  her.     Then  he  found  the 
electric  switch  upon  the  wall  and  turned  on  the 
lights. 

"What — what  was  it?"  Grace  asked,  staring  be 
fore  her  in  horror. 

"What  was  what?"  he  questioned. 

"That — that  thing  that  was  locked  in  here  with 
me." 

"Poor  creature.  A  monkey.  I'm  sorry  I  had  to 
shoot  it."  He  pointed  to  a  crumpled  figure  on  the 
floor  dressed  in  a  gay  costume  of  red  silk. 

"But — what  was  a  monkey  doing  here?" 

"I'll  explain  all  that  later.  Where  is  the  woman  ?" 
He  glanced  toward  the  silent  bedroom. 

"They  have  gone?" 

"They?" 

"Yes.     There  were  two." 
274 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  275 

"Ah!  The  Ford  girl.  I  might  have  known. 
Where  did  they  go?" 

"I — I  don't  know.  To  the  station,  I  think. 
They  said  something  about  waiting  there  for  a 
train." 

"What  station?" 

"They  didn't  say.  But  they  spoke  of  taking  a 
car  to  42nd  Street,  and  crossing  over.  It  must 
have  been  the  Grand  Central." 

"Or  possibly  the  West  Shore.  We'll  have  to  try 
both.  Are  you  able  to  leave  now?" 

Grace  straightened  out  her  stiffened  limbs. 

"Yes — I — guess  so." 

"Then  come  along." 

As  they  started  to  leave  the  place,  two  men  con 
fronted  them  at  the  door.  One  was  Mr.  Scully, 
he  of  the  ground-floor  apartment,  the  other  a  short, 
thickset  man,  who  at  once  announced  himself  as 
the  janitor  of  the  building.  , 

"What's  going  on  up  here?"  he  questioned.  "I 
heard  a  shot." 

Duvall  pointed  to  the  crumpled  heap  on  the 
floor. 

"I  had  to  shoot  it,  though  I'm  sorry  now  that  I 
did.  It  attacked  me  in  the  dark.  I  couldn't  afford 


276  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

to  take  any  chances.  My  wife  was  locked  in  here, 
and  was,  so  far  as  I  knew,  in  grave  danger." 

"Your  wife?"    The  man  glanced  at  Grace. 

"Yes." 

"But — where  is  Miss  Norman?  And  how  did 
that  monkey  get  in  here?" 

"Miss  Norman  left  here  some  time  ago.  Another 
woman,  by  the  name  of  Ford,  was  with  her.  She 
brought  the  monkey." 

"What  for?" 

"I  imagine  she  didn't  want  to  leave  it  at  her 
rooms.  She  did  not  expect  to  return  there." 

"And  Miss  Norman's  gone,  you  say?" 

"Yes." 

"Whereto?" 

"I  don't  just  know,  but  I  mean  to  find  out  at 
once.  She  has  been  guilty  of  a  grave  offense,  on 
account  of  which  I  have  been  trying  to  lay  my  hands 
on  her  for  several  days.  My  wife  tells  me  she 
took  most  of  her  belongings  with  her  in  her  flight." 

"Flight,  eh?"  the  man  growled.  "And  she  owres 
us  a  month's  rent.  I  hope  you  find  her." 

"I  think  I  shall.  Meanwhile,  suppose  you  wait 
here  in  the  apartment,  in  case,  for  any  reason,  she 
comes  back.  If  I  find  her  I  shall  bring  her  here 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  277 

at  once,  and  unless  the  place  is  open  I  couldn't  very 
well  get  in." 

"All  right."  The  man  glanced  about  the  dis 
ordered  room.  "That  damned  monkey  has  smashed 
a  lamp  and  a  lot  of  ornaments  that  somebody's  got 
to  pay  for.  Miss  Norman  rented  this  place  fur 
nished." 

Duvall  made  no  reply,  but  nodding  to  Grace,  led 
the  way  to  the  hall. 

"I'll  be  back  soon,  whether  I  find  the  woman  or 
not,"  he  said.  "I've  got  some  investigations  to 
make  here." 

Accompanied  by  Grace,  he  descended  to  the  cab. 
Leary  seemed  overjoyed  to  realize  that  Grace  was 
safe,  and  began  a  long  apology  for  his  carelessness 
in  not  waiting  for  her  earlier  in  the  evening,  but 
Duvall  cut  him  short. 

"Good  thing  you  didn't,"  he  said.  "By  coming 
back  to  the  hotel  and  leaving  the  note  for  Mrs. 
Duvall,  you  made  it  possible  for  me  to  find  her, 
and  if  I  hadn't" — he  paused  and  looked  at  Grace 
with  a  troubled  face — "there's  no  knowing  what 
might  have  happened.  Tell  the  chauffeur  to  drive 
to  the  Grand  Central  Station." 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  the  cab  drew  up  at  the 


278  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

curb.  In  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  there 
were  a  good  many  persons  moving  in  and  out  of 
the  station.  Duvall  got  out  and  motioned  to  Grace 
and  Leary  to  do  the  same. 

"We  will  all  go  in  by  different  doors,"  he  ex 
plained,  "and  meet  in  the  general  waiting-room. 
If  the  women  are  not  there,  Mrs.  Duvall  will  look 
through  the  women's  room.  If  you  see  them,  and 
they  make  no  effort  to  escape,  wait  for  me  to  join 
you.  If  they  do  try  to  get  away,  detain  them  until 
I  come." 

It  was  Duvall  himself,  however,  who  first  caught 
sight  of  the  objects  of  their  pursuit.  They  sat,  both 
apparently  asleep,  on  a  bench  in  one  corner  of  the 
main  waiting  room.  The  detective  was  not  certain 
of  their  identity,  heavily  veiled  as  they  were,  until 
he  had  gone  quite  close  up  to  them.  Then  he  saw 
that  they  were  Miss  Ford  and  the  woman  who  had 
escaped  from  him  while  in  the  cab  the  night  be 
fore. 

He  leaned  over  and  tapped  the  Ford  girl  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Wake  up,  Miss  Ford,"  he  exclaimed. 

The  girl  shivered,  then  struggled  to  her  feet.  Her 
companion  appeared  to  be  too  dazed  to  move, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  279 

although  she  opened  her  eyes  and  stared  at  him  with 
a  vague  and  terrified  face. 

"Will  you  come  with  me  quietly,"  he  said,  "or 
shall  I  call  a  policeman  and  have  you  put  under 
arrest  for  the  attack  upon  my  wife?"  He  addressed 
himself  more  particularly  to  the  woman  who  was 
sitting. 

She  now  rose  and  made  a  movement  as  though 
to  attempt  to  escape.  Duvall  grasped  her  by  the 
arm. 

"It  will  be  quite  useless  to  attempt  it,  Miss  Nor 
man,"  he  said.  "I  have  help  close  at  hand  in  case 
it  is  needed."  He  glanced  toward  Grace  and  Leary, 
who  were  now  approaching.  "I  do  not  wish  to 
use  any  violence,  of  course,  but  you  and  your  friend 
are  going  back  to  the  apartment  on  Ninety-sixth 
Street  with  me." 

His  voice,  his  manner,  made  it  apparent  to  the  two 
women  that  escape  was  hopeless.  They  seemed  sud 
denly  to  realize  it,  to  give  up  further  ideas  of 
'resistance. 

"Very  well,"  Miss  Norman  said,  "we  will  go." 

"Good."  Duvall  turned  to  Leary.  "Take  those 
two  suit  cases,  Leary,  and  get  another  cab."  In 
silence  the  little  party  made  its  way  to  the  street. 


280  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

The  two  women  said  nothing  on  the  way  back  to 
the  apartment,  and  Duvall  did  not  question  them. 
There  was  time  enough  for  that,  he  reflected,  after 
they  reached  their  destination.  Within  less  than  an 
hour  from  the  time  of  their  departure,  their  entire 
party  was  back  in  the  woman's  apartment. 

The  janitor  was  still  there  on  guard,  but  the  body 
of  the  dead  monkey  had  been  removed.  Duvall, 
requesting  Leary  to  remain,  closed  the  door.  The 
janitor  rose  and  came  toward  them. 

"Look  here,  Miss  Norman,"  he  began,  "who's  go 
ing  to  pay  for  that  broken  lamp  and  them  vases  and 
ornaments?" 

The  woman  regarded  him  with  a  stare,  but  said 
nothing. 

"Never  mind  about  those  things  now,"  Duvall 
said.  "They  can  remain.  I  have  some  questions 
of  much  greater  importance  to  ask  these  ladies. 
You  need  not  wait.  In  fact,  I  should  prefer  that 
you  did  not.  The  matter  is  a  private  one."  The 
jjanitor  took  his  departure,  grumbling  to  himself,  and 
Duvall  closed  and  bolted  the  door.  Then  he  re 
quested  the  two  women  to  be  seated.  They  obeyed 
without  a  word. 

"Why  did  you  send  those  threatening  messages 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  281 

to  Miss  Morton?"  he  suddenly  asked,  addressing 
himself  to  Miss  Norman. 

She  faced  him  defiantly. 

"I'll  answer  no  questions,"  she  flung  at  him. 
"You  can't  prove  I  sent  anybody  any  messages." 

"Do  you  deny  it,  then?" 

"Yes!" 

Duvall  turned  to  Grace. 

"You  saw  this  woman  enter  Miss  Morton's  hotel 
to-night  and  go  up  in  the  elevator,  did  you  not?" 

"Certainly!" 

"Do  you  deny  that?"  The  detective  once  more 
addressed  Miss  Norman. 

"No.  What  of  it?  How  do  you  know  I  went 
to  Miss  Morton's  room?"  Her  defiance  was  in  no 
way  lessened.  Duvall  saw  that  she  meant  to  deny 
her  guilt  utterly.  He  turned  to  Leary. 

"This  woman  came  to  you,  did  she  not,  with  a 
request  that  you  spy  on  my  wife's  movements,  and 
inform  her  concerning  them?" 

I 

The  chauffeur  nodded. 

"Yes,  sir.    She  did." 

Again  Miss  Norman  spoke. 

"Suppose  I  did.     What  then?" 

"You  will  admit,  I  presume,  that  you  fainted  at 


282  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

the  theatre  the  other  night  when  the  picture  of  the 
death's-head  seal  was  thrown  on  the  screen,  and 
that  later  you  escaped  from  the  cab  in  which  I  had 
placed  you?" 

"Certainly  I  will  admit  it.  The  hideous  thing 
startled  me.  As  for  escaping  from  the  cab,  I  had 
every  reason  to  do  so.  You  had  not  only  attempted 
to  drug  me,  but  after  that  you  tried  to  steal  the 
contents  of  my  purse.  You  are  the  one  who  ought 
to  be  arrested,  not  I." 

The  woman's  attitude  began  to  annoy  Duvall, 
especially  as,  so  far,  he  realized  fully  that  the  evi 
dence  against  her  was  entirely  circumstantial  and 
vague.  He  turned  away,  and  began  to  search  the 
rooms. 

The  search,  although  he  conducted  it  with  the 
utmost  minuteness,  was  quite  unproductive  of  re 
sults.  If  the  woman  possessed  a  typewriter,  she 
had  apparently  made  away  with  it.  The  scrap 
basket  contained  nothing  but  a  few  torn  bits  of 
paper  of  no  value.  There  was  no  stationery  on  the 
small  desk  in  the  living  room,  no  black  sealing  wax, 
such  as  had  been  used  to  make  the  seals.  Duvall 
began  to  realize  that  the  case  against  his  prisoner 
was  far  from  complete.  Returning  from  a  fruit- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  283 

less  search  of  the  bedroom,  Duvall's  eye  fell  upon 
the  two  suitcases  that  the  women  had  carried  in 
their  flight.  He  bent  over  to  them  at  once,  and 
proceeded  to  open  them,  one  after  the  other. 

"Search  them,  please."    He  nodded  to  Grace. 

The  latter  did  so  with  the  utmost  care,  but  found 
nothing  of  an  incriminating  nature.  The  two 
women  sat  in  stony  silence,  showing  little  interest  in 
the  proceedings.  Duvall  went  over  to  them. 

"Show  me  your  rings,"  he  said  to  Miss  Norman. 

The  woman  held  out  her  hand. 

"Take  them  off." 

She  stripped  from  her  finger  three  rings.  One 
was  a  gold  seal  with  a  monogram  upon  it,  another 
a  cheap  affair  set  with  pearls,  the  third  a  twisted 
gold  band.  None  of  the  rings  contained  the  mys 
terious  death's-head  seal,  or  could  in  any  way  have 
concealed  it. 

An  examination  of  Miss  Ford's  stock  of  jewelry 
produced  no  better  results. 

"Let  me  see  the  contents  of  your  purse,"  Duvall 
said,  indicating  a  leather  bag  the  Norman  woman 
carried  on  her  wrist. 

She  handed  the  bag  over  with  an  almost  imper 
ceptible  smile.  Duvall  examined  it  but  without 


284  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

result.  The  seal  was  not  inside.  Nor  did  Miss 
Ford's  purse,  a  silver  one,  contain  anything  worthy 
of  his  notice.  He  handed  the  two  back. 

"Anything  else  you  would  like  to  see  ?"  Miss  Nor 
man  asked  with  cutting  irony. 

Duvall  walked  over  to  the  window  and  looked 
out.  It  was  still  quite  dark.  The  woman's  assur 
ance  puzzled  him.  It  was  quite  clear  now  that  un 
less  he  could  find  the  typewriter,  the  letter  paper, 
the  missing  seal,  and  could  connect  this  woman  with 
them,  there  remained  but  a  single  way  in  which  she 
could  be  connected  with  the  attacks  upon  Miss 
Morton,  and  that  would  be  by  the  direct  testimony 
of  the  motion-picture  actress  herself,  concerning  the 
woman's  visit  to  her  room.  But  suppose  the  visit 
had  been  made  in  disguise.  It  would  have  been 
simple  enough  to  have  put  on  a  mask  on  entering 
the  room  and  subsequently  have  thrown  it  away. 
And  Miss  Morton,  frightened  as  she  had  been, 
might  be  totally  unable  to  identify  her  assailant. 
She  had  covered  her  tracks  well.  Was  she  then  to 
go  free? 

The  matter  of  the  typewriter  Duvall  put  aside  for 
the  moment.  The  woman  might  readily  have  a 
friend  who  possessed  one — a  hotel  stenographer, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  285 

perhaps,  who  had  permitted  her  to  make  use  of 
her  machine.  But  the  seal  was  a  matter  of  more 
importance.  His  examination  of  the  several  impres 
sions  had  shown  him  that  it  was  extremely  well 
carved — a  decidedly  expensive  piece  of  work.  Of 
course,  the  woman  might  have  thrown  it  away  dur 
ing  her  flight,  but  it  seemed  unlikely.  What  had 
she  done  with  it?  The  question  was  one  to  which 
he  felt  he  must  find  an  answer. 

Again,  with  Grace's  assistance,  he  examined  the 
articles  in  the  women's  suitcases,  testing  the  backs 
of  hairbrushes,  the  contents  of  powder  boxes,  the 
interior  of  a  cake  of  soap,  a  bottle  of  shoe  blacken 
ing,  but  the  search  was  as  unproductive  of  results 
as  before.  Duvall  was  forced,  against  his  will,  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  woman  had  made  away  with 
the  seal,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  its  being  found 
upon  her  person. 

"Ts  there  anything  more  you  want  of  us?"  Miss 
Norman  asked,  when  he  had  again  closed  the  suit 
cases.  "If  not,  my  friend  and  I  would  like  to  go." 
She  rose  as  though  to  take  her  departure. 

"Yes.  There  is  one  thing  more.  You  will  have 
to  go  to  Mrs.  Morton's  hotel  with  me,  so  that  her 
daughter  may  have  an  opportunity  to  identify  you. 


286  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

But  it  is  far  too  early  to  start  now.  I  will  send 
out  presently  and  have  some  breakfast  brought  in." 

It  was  beginning  to  grow  light  now.  Duvall  sug 
gested  to  Grace  that  she  had  better  go  out  into 
the  little  kitchenette  at  the  rear  of  the  apartment 
and  see  if  she  couldn't  find  the  materials  for  pre 
paring  some  coffee.  He  himself  sat  down  at  the 
little  writing  desk,  and  proceeded  once  more  to  ex 
amine  its  varnished  surface  with  the  greatest  care. 
He  had  thought,  if  the  letters  had  been  sealed  here, 
there  would  in  all  probability  be  some  tiny  spots  of 
the  black  sealing  wax  upon  the  desk  top,  but  he 
could  discover  nothing.  Presently  he  heard  Grace 
calling  to  him  from  the  kitchen. 

Directing  Leary  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  two  women, 
he  joined  her  at  once. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked.  "Have  you  discovered 
anything?" 

"No,  not  exactly.  But — what  does  that  mean?" 
She  pointed  to  a  candle  which  stood  in  a  tin  holder 
on  the  table.  "Do  you  notice  the  spots  of  black 
wax  on  the  candlestick?" 

Duvall  took  the  candlestick  up  and  looked  at  it. 
There  were  large  splashes  of  sealing  wax  all  over 
the  bottom  of  the  tin  tray,  not  minute  spots,  such 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  287 

as  might  have  been  made  by  the  dropping  of  bits 
of  the  hot  wax  in  making  a  seal,  but  circular 
splotches  half  an  inch  or  more  in  diameter,  as 
though  a  great  quantity  of  the  material  had  been 
melted. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?"  Duvall  asked. 

"I  don't  know.  Looks  as  though  she  had  melted 
up  the  whole  stick,  for  some  reason  or  other.  Pos 
sibly  to  destroy  it." 

"Hardly  that.  It  would  have  been  far  easier  to 
have  simply  thrown  it  out  of  the  window.  And 
besides,  the  mere  possession  of  a  stick  of  sealing 
wax,  black  or  otherwise,  could  not  be  regarded  as 
evidence.  This  woman  is  smart,  very  smart  and 
shrewd.  She  did  not  melt  that  wax  up  for  nothing. 
I  think  I  have  an  idea  of  her  purpose,  although  I 
cannot,  of  course,  be  sure,  yet.  Did  you  find  some 
coffee?" 

"Yes.  I'll  have  it  ready  very  soon.  What  do 
you  make  of  this  woman's  attitude?" 

"It  is  simple  enough.  She  believes  that  she  can 
bluff  this  thing  out  without  it  being  possible  to 
prove  her  the  author  of  the  letters.  And  she  may 
be  right.  Certainly,  unless  Miss  Morton  can  iden 
tify  her,  or  we  can  discover  the  death's-head  seal 


288  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

in  her  possession,  she  stands  a  very  good  chance  of 
getting  away  scot  free." 

The  coffee  which  Grace  presently  brought  in  was 
drunk  by  the  whole  party  in  silence.  Duvall  seemed 
unusually  preoccupied.  His  eyes  scarcely  left  Miss 
Norman;  he  appeared  to  be  studying  her,  watching 
her  every  movement  with  extraordinary  interest, 
although  he  strove,  by  assuming  a  careless  indiffer 
ence,  to  disguise  his  scrutiny.  Grace,  who  knew 
his  methods,  realized  that  the  sealing  wax  in  the 
candlestick  had  suggested  some  clue  to  him,  which 
he  was  trying  his  best  to  work  out. 

At  about  seven  o'clock  Leary  was  sent  out  to 
fetch  some  breakfast.  By  half  past  eight  they  were 
ready  to  go  to  see  Mrs.  Morton. 

Before  doing  so,  Duvall  thought  it  wise  to  call 
the  latter  up  and  make  arrangements  about  their 
coming.  He  presently  got  Mrs.  Morton  on  the 
wire. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Morton.  How  is  your 
daughter?"  he  asked. 

"Much  better,"  the  reply  came.  "Very  much 
better.  I  am  going  to  take  her  back  to  the  apart 
ment  at  once." 

"The  apartment?" 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  289 

"Yes.  She  will  be  more  comfortable  there,  and 
safer,  too,  I  think.  We  came  here  on  your  advice 
so  that  we  might  escape  this  fearful  persecution. 
But  since  the  persons  who  have  been  threatening 
my  daughter  have  discovered  our  whereabouts,  I 
see  no  reason  for  remaining  any  longer.  Do  you  ?" 

"No.  I  was  going  to  suggest  that  you  should 
return.  I  think  I  can  quite  safely  assure  you  that 
there  will  be  no  recurrence  of  the  threats." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"Because  I  think  the  woman  who  has  been  making 
them  is  now  in  my  hands.  I  will  bring  her  to  the 
apartment  a  little  later  in  the  morning  so  that  your 
daughter  may  identify  her.  Will  eleven  o'clock 
suit  you?" 

"Yes,  very  well." 

"Then  I  will  come  at  that  hour.  Good-by."  He 
hung  up  the  receiver  and  turned  to  speak  to  Grace. 
His  eyes,  however,  sought  the  figure  of  Miss  Nor 
man.  She  had  not  anticipated  his  quick  scrutiny, 
and  had  for  the  moment  ceased  to  be  on  her  guard. 
Duvall  smiled  to  himself.  The  theory  which  the 
spots  of  sealing  wax  had  suggested  had  in  that 
moment  received  an  unexpected  confirmation. 


CHAPTER  XX 

RUTH  MORTON  had  received  a  fearful 
shock  the  evening  before,  but  by  the  morn 
ing  she  had  recovered  from  the  immediate 
effects  of  it,  although  she  still  felt  extremely  weak. 

When  Duvall  and  his  little  party  arrived  at  the 
apartment  on  Fifty-seventh  Street,  they  were  re 
ceived  in  the  library  by  Mrs.  Morton. 

She  greeted  both  Grace  and  Duvall  cordially,  but 
it  was  evident,  from  her  manner,  that  she  found 
the  presence  of  the  Norman  woman  and  Miss  Ford 
highly  distasteful  to  her. 

Duvall  drew  her  to  one  side,  leaving  the  two 
women  in  charge  of  Leary  and  Grace. 

"How  is  your  daughter  now,  Mrs.  Morton?"  he 
asked. 

"Better,  I  think." 

"May  I  see  her  for  a  few  moments  ?" 

"Yes.  She  is  expecting  you.  Come  this  way, 
please.  She  is  occupying  my  room  at  present.  She 

290 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  291 

still  has  a  fear  of  the  other  one — the  one  she 
formerly  used." 

"I  see.  But  she  need  not  have  it  now.  There 
will  be  no  further  trouble."  He  followed  Mrs. 
Morton  into  her  bedroom. 

Ruth,  looking  very  haggard  and  white,  was  sitting 
in  an  easy  chair  by  the  window.  Duvall  was  amazed 
to  note  how  terribly  the  shock  of  the  night  before 
had  affected  her. 

"How  do  you  do,  Miss  Morton,"  he  said,  offer 
ing  his  hand.  "I  am  glad  to  find  you  almost  your 
self  again. 

The  girl  looked  up  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Duvall.  I  am  much  better.  I 
understand  that  you  have  found  out  who  has  been 
causing  me  all  this  trouble." 

"I  think  I  have.  But  before  I  go  ahead  I  want 
you  to  give  me  a  little  assistance.  Do  you  think 
you  would  know  the  woman  who  came  to  your 
rooms  last  night,  in  case  you  should  see  her 
again  ?" 

Miss  Morton  shuddered. 

"I — I  don't  know.  I  do  not  think  I  saw  her 
face.  It  was  all  so  very  sudden " 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  Duvall  said.     "It  may  help 


292  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

me  to  get  at  the  facts.    That  is,  if  you  feel  able  to 
do  so." 

"I  think  I  do.  What  shall  I  tell  you?" 
"Just  describe,  in  a  few  words,  what  happened." 
"Well,  as  you  know,  I  had  been  feeling  rather 
better  yesterday,  and  had  begun  to  rather  laugh  at 
my  fears.  Mother  was  with  me  constantly,  and 
Nora  as  well,  and  I  began  to  feel  quite  cheerful 
again,  especially  as  I  knew  that  you  were  making 
splendid  progress  and  had  found  the  woman  who 
had  been  writing  me.  Mother  told  me  that  you  ex 
pected  to  arrest  her  before  the  day  was  over.  She 
said  your  wife  had  been  helping  you,  too. 

"After  dinner  Nora,  who  had  been  in  the  hotel 
all  day,  asked  permission  to  go  out  for  awhile  and 
mother  told  her  she  might  go.  The  poor  girl  had 
been  almost  a  prisoner  since  we  arrived  at  the  hotel. 
That  was  about  eight  o'clock. 

"About  half  past  eight  a  boy  came  to  the  room 
with  a  card,  upon  which  was  written  your  wife's 
name,  and  a  note  asking  if  she  might  see  mother 
for  a  few  moments.  We  both  looked  at  the  card 
and  then  mother  decided  to  go  down  and  see  her. 
She  instructed  me  to  lock  the  door  while  she  was 
out,  and  of  course  I  did  so. 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  293 

"In  a  few  minutes  mother  came  back.  She 
seemed  greatly  excited,  said  that  she  had  seen  Mrs. 
Duvall  and  that  you  had  sent  a  message  to  the 
effect  that  you  had  arrested  the  woman  who  had 
been  threatening  me  and  wanted  mother  to  come 
to  your  hotel  at  once  to  appear  against  her  in  court. 
It  was  necessary,  the  woman  who  pretended  to  be 
your  wife  said,  that  mother  should  come  at  once, 
as  otherwise  the  woman  couldn't  be  held. 

"We  talked  the  matter  over  for  a  few  moments 
and  I  told  her  that  I  thought  she  ought  to  go.  She 
seemed  rather  afraid  to  leave  me  alone,  but  I 
promised  to  keep  the  door  locked,  and  anyway,  as 
I  pointed  out  to  her,  if  the  woman  was  arrested  I 
had  nothing  further  to  fear. 

"At  last  mother  decided  she  would  go,  and  left 
me.  I  locked  the  door  as  soon  as  she  went  out. 

"It  seemed  to  me  a  very  few  moments  before  I 
heard  some  one  rapping.  At  first  I  supposed  that 
mother  had  come  back  for  some  reason  or  other. 
Then  I  thought  it  might  be  Nora  who  had 
said  she  was  only  going  out  for  a  breath  of  air. 
So,  suspecting  nothing,  I  unlocked  the  door  and 
opened  it. 

"A  woman  came  in,  very  quickly,  before  I  real- 


294  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

ized  it.  She  was  not  tall,  and  rather  slight,  and  I 
think  she  had  light  hair.  I  couldn't  see  her  face 
well  because  she  had  twisted  a  black  veil  across  it, 
hiding  her  eyes  and  the  upper  part  of  her  features. 
She  turned  as  soon  as  she  got  in  the  room  and 
locked  the  door. 

"I  was  too  surprised  for  a  moment  to  speak,  then 
I  asked  her  what  she  wanted. 

"  'I  want  you,'  she  said  in  a  terrible  voice,  and 
I  saw  that  she  was  taking  a  bottle  from  her  hand 
bag. 

"I  was  so  frightened  that  I  could  not  cry  out, 
although  I  tried.  You  see,  the  warnings  I  had  re 
ceived  had  gotten  me  so  worked  up  that  my  nerves 
were  all  on  edge,  and  as  soon  as  I  saw  the  bottle, 
I  concluded  that  the  woman  was  about  to  throw 
vitriol  in  my  face.  So  I  put  my  hands  to  my  eyes 
and  ran  into  the  bedroom. 

"The  woman  came  behind  me,  saying  that  my 
looks  would  soon  be  gone,  that  my  days  as  an  actress 
were  over,  and  other  things  like  that  which  I 
scarcely  heard  I  was  so  frightened.  When  she  got 
to  me  she  caught  hold  of  my  arm  and  pulled  me 
around,  facing  her. 

"I  couldn't  keep  my  eyes  closed  now,  for  I  simply 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  295 

had  to  see  what  she  was  doing.  It  seemed  wors« 
not  looking  at  her,  and  then  I  thought  I  might  take 
the  bottle  away  from  her  and  save  myself  in  that 
way.  So  I  took  my  hands  from  my  face  and  rushed 
toward  her. 

"Then  she  raised  the  bottle  and  dashed  some 
thing  into  my  face. 

"It  seemed  hot,  stinging,  and  made  my  eyes  burn 
frightfully.  I  was  sure  it  was  vitriol,  and  the 
thought  was  too  much  for  me  I  guess,  for  I  felt 
myself  falling  and — well,  that's  all  I  remember  until 
I  woke  up  and  found  the  doctor  and  mother  there. 
It  was  a  terrible  experience.  I  could  scarcely  believe 
them,  when  they  told  me,  after  I  came  to,  that  I 
wasn't  really  hurt  at  all." 

Duvall  looked  at  the  girl's  face.  It  showed  no 
signs  of  injury,  although  her  eyes  were  red  and 
inflamed. 

"Then  it  wasn't  vitriol  after  all  ?"  he  asked,  won 
dering. 

"No,  it  apparently  wasn't.  The  doctor  said  he 
thought  it  must  have  been  ammonia." 

"Remarkable!"  Duvall  muttered  to  himself. 
"Why  should  she  have  gone  to  all  that  trouble, 
just  to  frighten  you?" 


296  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"That's  apparently  all  she  intended  to  do  from 
the  start  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Duvall,  I've  been 
thinking  this  thing  over,  and  I  believe  her  whole 
plan  from  the  beginning  was  merely  to  ruin  me  in 
my  work  by  fear.  And  I  must  say  that  she  very 
nearly  succeeded." 

"Very  nearly,"  said  Duvall,  with  a  frown.  "If 
this  thing  had  kept  up  for  another  week  or  two, 
you  would  have  been  a  complete  nervous  wreck." 

"I  am  now,  I'm  afraid,"  Miss  Morton  said, 
sadly.  "I  don't  feel  as  though  I  could  act  again 
for  a  long  time." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will.  You  have  youth,  and  that  is 
everything.  And  now,  tell  me,  do  you  think  if 
you  took  a  look  at  this  woman  you  might  recognize 
her?" 

The  girl  shuddered. 

"Is  she — here?"  she  asked. 

"Yes.    In  the  library." 

"You  think  it  would  be  quite  safe?" 

"Quite.  She  can  do  you  no  harm  while  I  arn 
here." 

"Very  well.  I  will  see  her  if  you  wish  it,  but  I 
am  very  much  afraid  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
identify  her." 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  297 

Duvafl  held  out  his  hand. 

"Come,"  he  said.     "I  will  take  you  in." 

Miss  Morton  rose,  and  walking  slowly  and  with 
considerable  effort,  went  with  him  into  the  front 
room.  Standing  in  the  doorway,  with  the  detective 
beside  her,  she  confronted  the  two  women.  They 
regarded  her  with  stony  indifference. 

"Miss  Morton,"  Duvall  said,  "do  you  recognize 
either  of  these  two  women  as  the  one  who  attacked 
you  in  your  rooms  last  night?" 

The  girl  gazed  helplessly  from  Miss  Ford  to  her 
companion  and  back  again.  Then  she  slowly  shook 
her  head. 

"No,"  she  said.  "It  might  have  been  either  of 
them.  They  look  somewhat  alike.  But  as  for  say 
ing  which  one  it  was,  if  it  was  either  of  them,  I'm 
afraid  I  can't  The  woman  was  veiled.  The  room 
was  not  brightly  lighted.  And  I  was  very  much 
frightened." 

The  look  of  disappointment  in  Duvall's  face  was 
reflected  in  that  of  both  Grace  and  Mrs.  Morton. 
The  two  women,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  vastly 
relieved.  Miss  Norman's  mouth  curled  in  rather  an 
ironical  smile. 

"Are  you  through  with  this  inquisition  now?"  she 


298  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

asked.  "For  if  you  are,  my  friend  and  myself 
would  like  to  continue  our  journey.  You  have  had 
no  right  to  bring  us  here  in  the  first  place,  and  I 
am  strongly  considering  making  a  complaint  against 
you  for  having  done  so."  She  grasped  firmly  the 
umbrella  she  had  held  in  her  hand  all  the  morning, 
and  turned  as  though  to  go.  Leary,  however,  stood 
before  the  door. 

"You  apparently  have  forgotten,"  Duvall  re 
marked,  going  toward  her,  "that  I  still  have  a 
charge  against  you  for  attacking  my  wife." 

"Very  well;  make  it.  I  can  prove  that  your 
wife  forcibly  entered  my  apartment  under  false 
pretense,  saying  that  she  was  collecting  money  for 
the  war  sufferers  in  Poland.  If  I  attacked  her,  it 
was  in  self-defense." 

"That  isn't  true,"  cried  Grace.     "You  sprang  at 

» 
me 

"My  word  is  as  good  as  yours,"  Miss  Norman 
interrupted.  "And  my  friend  here  will  bear  out 
what  I  say."  She  nodded  to  Miss  Ford.  "You 
also,"  she  again  faced  Duvall,  "broke  into  my 
apartment  without  warrant  and  killed  my  pet 
monkey.  You  will  have  to  answer  for  that  as 
well.  You  have  accused  me  of  sending  threat- 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  299 

ening  letters  to  this  girl  here.  I  defy  you  to  prove 
it." 

Duvall,  who  had  been  coming  nearer  the  woman 
all  the  time,  reached  out  and  snatched  from  her 
hands  the  umbrella  she  held.  The  others  in  the 
room  regarded  him  with  astonishment.  The  woman 
herself  gave  a  cry  of  anger,  and  starting  forward 
tried  to  recover  her  lost  property. 

Duvall  yielded  it  to  her  at  once,  but  not  before 
he  had  torn  from  the  handle  two  small  round  balls 
covered  with  knitted  silk  that  hung  from  it  by  a 
heavy  silken  cord. 

Miss  Norman,  seeing  what  he  had  done,  drew 
back  with  a  cry  of  anger.  A  few  incoherent 
words  trailed  from  her  lips.  Duvall,  paying  no 
attention  to  her,  ripped  open  one  of  the  silk- 
meshed  coverings  and  extracted  from  it  a  small, 
round  black  object  about  the  size  of  a  hickory 
nut. 

He  gazed  at  it  for  a  moment,  then  going  quickly 
/to  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room  brought  the 
thing  down  smartly  upon  its  surface. 

There  was  a  crackling  sound,  and  bits  of  some 
black  substance  flew  in  every  direction.  A  moment 
later  the  detective  raised  in  his  hand  a  glittering 


300  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

bit  of  metal  and  held  it  up  so  that  the  others  might 
see  it. 

"The  death's-head  seal,"  he  said,  quietly. 

Miss  Norman  fell  on  her  knees  before  Ruth 
Morton,  her  hands  upraised. 

"Forgive  me — forgive  me !"  she  sobbed. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

"  "T"  N  reconstructing  the  case  from  the  beginning," 
Duvall  said,  later  in  the  day,  "one  fact  stands 
out  with  especial  prominence — the  almost 
total  absence  of  any  definite  clues." 

He  was  sitting  in  the  library  of  the  Morton  apart 
ment,  and  with  him  were  his  wife,  Mrs.  Morton  and 
Ruth. 

"The  thing  was  certainly  very  cleverly  done," 
Mrs.  Morton  remarked.  "I  still  do  not  understand 
it  in  the  least.  How,  for  instance,  were  the  letters 
placed  in  my  daughter's  room?" 

"I  am  coming  to  that,"  replied  Duvall.  "But 
first  I  will  run  over  the  case  in  the  light  of  Miss 
Norman's  confession  to  me  so  that  you  may  under 
stand  it  thoroughly  and  decide  what  action  you  wish 
to  take  against  her  and  her  sister,  Miss  Ford." 

"Her  sister?" 

"Yes.  The  woman's  name  is  not  Norman.  It  is 
Ford — Jane  Ford.  Norman  is  an  assumed  name. 

301 


302  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

"The  two  of  them  came  to  'New  York  about  a 
year  ago  from  somewhere  up  the  state — a  small 
town  near  Rochester,  I  believe.  One  secured  em 
ployment  in  the  motion  picture  studio — the  other, 
the  one  calling  herself  Miss  Norman,  worked  as  a 
stenographer. 

"Her  interest  in  motion  pictures  having  been 
aroused  by  her  sister's  stories  of  the  life  in  the 
studio,  she  became  an  ardent  picture  'fan,'  and 
spent  every  evening  watching  the  films. 

"Her  attention  was  particularly  devoted  to  the 
pictures  in  which  your  daughter  appeared,  owing 
to  the  stories  her  sister  told  her  about  Miss  Morton's 
marvelous  salary,  her  beauty,  the  ease  with  which 
she  had  become  famous. 

"These  stories  naturally  inflamed  her  sister's 
mind.  Working  for  ten  dollars  a  week,  she  began 
to  compare  her  state  with  that  of  a  girl  of  her  own 
age  earning  a  hundred  times  as  much,  and  gradually 
the  idea  began  to  possess  her  that  she  could  become 
a  motion-picture  star  herself. 

"At  first  she  admired  Miss  Morton  immensely 
and  never  missed  an  opportunity  to  see  the  pictures 
in  which  she  appeared.  Then,  convinced  of  her 
own  ability  as  an  actress,  she  made  application  at 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  303 

the  studio  at  which  her  sister  worked  for  a  posi 
tion. 

It  seems  she  haunted  the  studio  for  several  weeks 
without  getting  any  encouragement.  Then,  more 
to  get  rid  of  her  than  for  any  other  reason,  one  of*- 
the  directors  offered  her  a  place  as  extra  woman 
in  a  picture  Miss  Morton  was  doing — a  very  minor 
part,  in  which  she  had  to  appear  momentarily  as 
a  saleswoman  at  a  counter  in  a  department  store. 

"Unfortunately,  when  Miss  Morton  saw  her  she 
happened  to  say  to  the  director  that  she  would  have 
preferred  a  woman  of  a  different  type,  dark,  taller, 
so  as  to  provide  a  more  effective  foil  to  her  own 
type  of  beauty.  As  a  result,  the  girl  did  not  get  the 
position." 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  Ruth  cried.  "I  hadn't  the  least 
idea  who  the  girl  was,  and,  of  course,  I  wouldn't 
have  done  her  any  harm  for  the  world." 

"I  know  that,"  Duvall  replied,  "but  she  did  not. 
She  is  mentally  rather  erratic,  and  she  at  once  con 
ceived  the  idea  that  you  had  singled  her  out  for 
persecution;  that,  in  fact,  you  were  envious  of  her 
abilities  and  meant  to  prevent  her  from  getting  a 
chance. 

"The  thing  preyed  on  her  mind,  and  I  fancy, 


304  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

unbalanced  it  a  little.  She  conceived  a  violent 
hatred  for  you,  and  with  her  sister  began  to  plot 
revenge. 

"Her  first  move  was  to  persuade  her  sister  to 
move  to  the  house  on  Fifty-seventh  Street,  close  to 
your  apartment.  It  took  them  some  time  to  find 
the  place — to  secure  a  room  situated  as  Miss  Ford's 
was,  but  at  last  they  managed  it.  Then  they  went 
to  work. 

"The  letters  were  all  typewritten  on  a  machine 
belonging  to  a  public  stenographer  whom  the  girls 
knew.  Jane  Ford  would  stop  in  at  this  woman's 
place  late  in  the  afternoon  and  asking  permission  to 
use  one  of  the  machines  would  type  the  threatening 
letters.  The  paper  she  used  was  procured  especially 
for  her  by  her  sister  at  a  stationery  store  down 
town. 

"The  seal,  a  curious  thing,  had  belonged  to  the 
girls'  father,  and  she  conceived  the  idea  of  signing 
the  letters  with  it  to  add  to  the  grimness  of  her 
threats.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  do  not  think  she  ever 
had  the  least  intention  of  carrying  them  out.  It 
was  to  be  solely  a  campaign  of  fear.  She  probably 
thought  that  she  could  so  frighten  you,  Miss 
Morton,  that  your  health  would  be  broken  down, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  305 

and  your  work  consequently  interfered  with  to  such 
an  extent  that  you  would  lose  your  position.  As  I 
say,  I  think  she  is  mentally  somewhat  unbalanced. 
I  cannot  account  for  some  of  her  actions,  other 
wise. 

"The  mailing  of  the  first  letter,  the  telephone 
messages,  were  comparatively  simple.  It  was  the 
delivery  of  those  at  the  apartment  that  taxed  her 
ingenuity.  Yet  the  method  was  simple  enough. 

"The  girls'  father,  I  am  told,  had  been  an  animal 
trainer  in  a  circus,  and  one  of  his  bequests  to  his 
daughters  was  a  pet  monkey  named  Jack,  that  had 
been  taught  to  do  all  sorts  of  tricks.  The  girls 
brought  this  monkey  to  New  York  with  them  after 
their  father's  death.  When  the  question  arose  of 
delivering  the  letters  in  your  room,  Miss  Morton, 
she  decided  to  make  use  of  the  animal. 

"Creeping  out  of  Marcia  Ford's  bedroom  to  the 
roof  of  the  back  building,  and  taking  the  monkey 
with  her,  she  crossed  the  roof  of  the  second  house 
and  reached  the  wall  of  the  apartment.  From  here 
she  was  in  a  position  to  reach  either  of  your  bed 
room  windows  in  the  following  manner. 

"The  monkey  was  led  by  means  of  a  long,  thin 
rope,  attached  to  a  sort  of  harness  about  his.  neek 


306  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

and  shoulders.  By  going  to  the  rear  edge  of  the 
back  building  they  could  readily  swing  him  over  to 
the  fire-escape,  while  by  ascending  to  the  top  of  the 
attic  roof  overlooking  the  court,  they  could  in  the 
same  way  enable  him  to  reach  the  other  window. 
'The  monkey  had  been  trained  to  carry  objects  in 
his  mouth.  This  accounts  for  the  row  of  indenta 
tions  on  the  letters  found  in  your  room.  I  had 
supposed  they  came  from  some  mechanical  device, 
fastened  to  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  were  made  by  the  monkey's  teeth. 

"The  animal  being  light  in  weight,  and  the  pads 
of  his  feet  being,  of  course,  soft,  no  traces  of  his 
presence  were  left  on  the  newly  painted  surface  of 
the  fire-escape.  The  handkerchief  that  I  found 
there  had  been  knotted  about  his  neck  as  the  collar 
to  which  the  rope  was  fastened  had  seemed  a  bit 
weak.  In  some  way  it  became  detached,  probably 
when  the  girls  jerked  on  the  cord  to  summon  him 
back  after  he  had  completed  his  task. 

"In  crossing  the  roofs  of  the  two  houses,  the 
monkey's  paws,  as  well  as  the  rope,  became  covered 
with  dust.  This  explains  the  spots  which  seemed 
to  be  finger  marks  upon  the  counterpane  of  your 
bed,  and  the  long,  dark  straight  line  across  the  bed, 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  307 

which  I  thought  might  have  been  left  by  a  rod  or 
pole.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  made  by  a  tightly 
stretched  rope. 

"The  sending  of  the  monkey  on  the  night  when 
you  were  lying  in  bed  must  have  been  a  mistake. 
You  will  remember  that,  contrary  to  your  usual 
habit,  you  retired  that  night  very  early; — a  little 
after  eight  o'clock,  if  I  remember  correctly.  The 
girls,  coming  over  the  room,  saw  that  your  room 
was  dark,  and  naturally  supposed  that  no  one  was 
in  it.  The  grinning  face  of  the  monkey  standing 
on  the  bed  beside  you,  was  the  death's  head  ap 
parition  you  thought  you  saw.  At  your  cries  the 
two  women  at  once  jerked  on  the  cord,  and  the 
monkey  hastened  back  to  them  through  the  partly 
raised  window,  leaving  no  trace  of  his  presence 
except  the  black  smudges  of  which  I  have  spoken. 

"I  have  no  doubt  that  Jane  Ford  followed  me 
back  to  my  hotel  after  one  of  my  early  visits  to 
your  apartment,  and  thus  learned  by  name  and 
address.  Her  supposition  that  I  was  engaged  in 
an  attempt  to  ferret  out  the  writer  of  the  letters 
was  a  shrewd  guess. 

"The  photograph  was  stolen  from  the  studio  by 
Marcia  Ford  who,  being  an  employee,  had  ample 


308  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

• 

opportunity  to  stroll  about  the  place  after  office 
hours  without  exciting  suspicion.  She  also  arranged 
the  subsequent  delivery  of  the  photograph  and  the 
substitution  of  the  fake  telegram. 

"Even  when  I  made  my  night  visit  to  Marcia 
Ford's  room,  and  was  attacked  in  the  dark  by  the 
monkey,  I  did  not  suspect  what  it  was.  The  room 
was  pitch  dark,  and  in  the  gloom  I  got  the  impres 
sion  of  a  much  larger  object — a  person,  in  fact,  and 
this  impression  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that  the 
animal  wore  a  silken  jacket,  and  I  felt  the  sleeve  of 
it  against  my  throat.  I  only  regret  that  the  noise, 
the  cries  he  made,  singularly  human  in  quality,  made 
it  necessary  for  me  to  leave  the  place  so  precipitately. 

"The  Ford  girl  and  her  sister  had  evidently  just 
come  in,  and  rushing  to  the  room  found  evidences 
of  some  one  having  been  there.  The  monkey  had 
been  shut  in  a  closet,  and  by  opening  the  door  I 
had,  of  course,  released  it.  Fearing  discovery,  they 
arranged  to  flee  at  once.  Jane  Ford  went  uptown. 
Her  sister  remained  to  pack  up  her  belongings. 

"The  visit  to  your  hotel,  the  attack  on  you,  was 
a  crazy  inspiration  of  the  moment.  Not  knowing 
that  my  wife  was  following  her,  and  having  seen 
me  on  the  sidewalk  on  Fifty-seventh  Street  as  she 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  309 

drove  away,  Miss  Norman  naturally  felt  that  if  she 
could  get  you,  Mrs.  Morton,  out  of  the  way,  she 
would  be  perfectly  safe  in  going  up  to  your  rooms. 

"Even  when  alone  with  your  daughter,  she  did 
not  attempt  to  do  her  any  serious  bodily  injury, 
but  contented  herself  with  hurling  the  ammonia  in 
her  face,  counting,  no  doubt,  upon  the  effect  of  the 
shock  that  would  result.  As  I  have  said,  the  woman 
is  mentally  a  little  unbalanced.  The  things  she  does 
are  not  normal." 

"Nevertheless,  they  came  very  near  being  fatal," 
Mrs.  Morton  remarked  grimly.  "The  doctor  in 
formed  me  that  the  fright,  the  shock  of  her  ex 
perience,  might  readily  have  caused  Ruth's  death, 
or  upset  her  reason." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  replied  Duvall.  "The  woman 
has  all  the  cunning  of  an  insane  person.  She 
showed  it  when,  overcome  by  the  sight  of  the  death's- 
head  seal  I  had  flashed  upon  the  screen  at  the 
theater,  she  so  quickly  recovered  herself  that  she  was 
able  to  deceive  me  completely  regarding  her  con 
dition,  and  subsequently  to  make  her  escape. 

"Both  she  and  her  sister  realized  that  it  had  be 
come  necessary  for  them  to  leave  the  city.  Marcia 
Ford,  taking  the  monkey  with  her  in  a  cab,  hastened 


310  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

uptown  to  join  her  sister  at  the  latter's  apartment. 
She  knew  that  I  was  not  following  her,  for  she  had 
seen  me  drive  off  to  join  you,  Mrs.  Morton,  at  my 
hotel.  They  both  thought  themselves  quite  safe, 
and  able  to  leave  the  city  without  interference. 

"The  arrival  of  my  wife  at  their  apartment  caused 
them  to  hasten  their  plans.  They  realized  that  we 
were  close  upon  their  heels.  Jane  Ford  knew  that 
the  ring  containing  the  death's-head  seal  was 
about  the  only  evidence  that  existed  against  her, 
yet  she  hesitated  to  throw  it  away,  as  it  had  belonged 
to  her  father,  and  she  prized  it  highly.  With  the 
cunning  that  she  had  exhibited  throughout,  she  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  hiding  it  in  one  of  the  tassels 
upon  the  handle  of  her  umbrella. 

"These  tassels,  as  you  perhaps  know,  are  usually 
made  of  round  bits  of  wood,  enclosed  in  a  cover 
ing  of  knitted  silk.  The  girl  removed  one  of  the 
wooden  balls,  and  having  embedded  the  ring  in  a 
ball  of  black  sealing  wax,  put  it  in  place  of  the 
wooden  one.  It  was  a  most  ingenious  hiding  place, 
and  one  extremely  unlikely  to  be  discovered." 

"How  did  you  happen  to  discover  it,  Mr. 
Duvall?"  Mrs.  Morton  asked. 

"In  this  way.    When  my  wife  called  my  attention 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  311 

to  the  spots  of  black  wax  on  the  tray  of  the  candle 
stick,  I  saw  at  once  that  a  far  larger  amount  of  the 
wax  had  been  melted  than  would  have  been  re 
quired  in  making  an  ordinary  seal.  The  impres 
sions  on  the  warnings  the  woman  sent  were  very 
small  and  flat,  so  as  to  readily  be  inserted  in  the 
envelopes  containing  the  letters  without  being  bulky, 
or  becoming  broken  while  passing  through  the 
mails.  But  here  were  spots  of  the  wax  that  had 
dripped  down  as  large  as  a  silver  quarter  and  larger. 
What,  I  wondered,  had  caused  the  woman  to  melt 
so  large  a  quantity  of  wax? 

"I  attempted  to  put  myself  in  her  place  and  to 
think  what  she  would  do  to  hide  the  seal  ring.  The 
idea  of  embedding  it  in  a  ball  of  the  wax  occurred 
to  me.  But,  having  done  this,  what  would  she  do 
with  the  ball?  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  hide; 
in  her  purse,  her  satchel,  it  would  have  attracted 
attention  at  once.  Then  I  noticed  the  round  black 
ornaments  hanging  from  her  umbrella,  with  their 
silken  cords  and  tassels.  What  better  place  to  hide 
the  ball  of  wax. 

"In  order  to  test  my  theory,  I  twice  attempted 
to  take  the  umbrella  from  her  on  our  way  here,  as 
though  to  relieve  her  of  the  trouble  of  carrying  it. 


312  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

In  both  instances  she  drew  back  at  once,  and  re 
fused  to  allow  the  umbrella  to  leave  her  possession. 
This  action  on  her  part  convinced  me  that  my  guess 
had  been  a  correct  one.  The  subsequent  finding  of 
the  ring  broke  down  her  assurance.  As  you  know, 
she  has  made  a  complete  confession." 

"Poor  woman,"  Ruth  Morton  remarked.  "What 
are  you  going  to  do  with  her?" 

"That  rests  with  you,  Miss  Morton.  If  you 
decide  to  prosecute  you  can  readily  do  so.  The 
penalty  for  sending  threatening  letters  through  the 
mails  is  not  a  light  one.  And  her  attack  upon  you, 
under  the  circumstances,  is  a  very  serious  matter 
indeed." 

Ruth  turned  to  her  mother. 

"I  think  we  ought  to  let  them  go,"  she  said. 

"And  have  the  same  trouble  over  again,"  Mrs. 
Morton  replied.  "I  could  never  feel  safe  with  that 
woman  at  large." 

"I  do  not  think  she  will  trouble  you  again,  Mrs. 
Morton,"  remarked  Duvall.  "She  is  thoroughly 
frightened.  All  her  assurance  has  disappeared.  She 
begs  that  she  and  her  sister  be  allowed  to  return 
home  at  once.  It  seems  that  some  relative  in 
Rochester  has  offered  them  a  home  there,  and 


THE  FILM  OF  FEAR  313 

they  were  going  to  join  her  when  we  intercepted 
them." 

"Then  let  them  go,"  Ruth  Morton  exclaimed.  "I 
certainly  do  not  wish  to  cause  them  any  harm, 
especially  as  you  tell  me  the  woman  who  originated 
the  whole  thing  is  mentally  not  quite  right." 

"She  is  certainly  unbalanced,  so  far  as  her  griev 
ance  against  you  is  concerned.  But  I  feel  sure  that 
were  you  to  explain  matters  to  her,  and  let  her 
understand  that  your  action  in  losing  her  the  posi 
tion  at  the  studio  was  quite  impersonal  on  your 
part,  she  will  realize  the  folly  of  what  she  has  done, 
and  come  to  her  senses." 

"I  will  do  it,"  said  Ruth.  "I  don't  want  to  injure 
her  any  more.  Let  them  go  home  in  peace." 

"Very  well."  Duvall  rose  to  go.  Permit  me  to 
say,  Mrs.  Morton,  that  I  admire  your  daughter's 
generosity  very  much.  Good  morning."  He  and 
Grace  bade  their  hosts  good-by  and  took  their 
leave. 

i     "She's  a  lovely  girl,"  Grace  remarked,  as  they 
drove  to  their  hotel.     "I  like  her  immensely." 

"Then  you  aren't  jealous  of  me  any  more,  because 
I  so  suddenly  became  a  motion-picture  'fan'  ?" 

"Richard!"    she   laughed.      "Don't   be   silly.      I 


314  THE  FILM  OF  FEAR 

suppose  I  shall  always  be  jealous  of  you  when  a 
girl,  as  beautiful  as  Ruth  Morton,  is  concerned. 
After  all,  to  be  jealous  is  only  a  woman's  way  of 
paying  tribute  to  another  woman's  charms." 

Duvall  laughed. 

"It  was  Miss  Ford's  way,  too,"  he  said,  "but  as 
a  means  of  showing  one's  appreciation  it  had  its 
faults." 


THE  END. 


THE  NOVELS  OF 

MARY  ROBERTS    RINEHART 


May  be  hi,a  whe/e«r  books  are  sold.    Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap  s  list. 


j  K.  LeMoyne,  famous  surgeon,  drops  out  of  the  world  that 
[fcas  known  hi«j,  and  goes  to  live  in  a  little  town  where 
beautifu!  Sidney  Page  lives.  She  is  in  training  to  become  a 
Durse.  The  joy«  and  troubles  of  their  young  love  are  told 
with  that  keeit  and  sympathetic  appreciation  which  has 
made  the  author  famous.  ... 

THE  MAN  IN  LOWER  TEN. 
Illustrated  by  Coward  Chandler  Christyl 

An  absorbing  detective  story  woven  around  the  mysteri 
ous  death  of  the  "Man  in  Lower  Ten."  The  strongest 
elements  of  Mrs.  Rinehart's  success  are  found  in  this  book. 

WHEN  A  MAN  MARRIES. 

Illustrated  by  Harrison  Fisher  and  Mayo  Bunker. 

A  young  artist,  whose  wife  had  recently  divorced  him, 
finds  that  his  aunt  is  soon  to  visit  him.  The  aunt,  who 
contributes  to  the  family  income  and  who  has  never  seen 
the  wife,  knows  nothing  of  the  domestic  upheaval.  How 
the  young  man  met  the  situation  is  humorously  and  most 
..entertainingly  told. 

THE  CIRCULAR  STAIRCASE.     Illus.  by  Lester  Ralph;' 

r  The  summer  occupants  of  "  Sunnyside  "  find  the  dead 
uDody  of  Arnold  Armstrong,  the  son  of  the  owner,  on  the  cir- 
jcular  staircase.  Following  the  murder  a  bank  failure  is  an« 
jiounced.  Around  these  two  events  is  woven  a  plot  e£ 
.Absorbing  interest. 

"THE  STREET  OF  SEVEN  STARS. 

Illustrated  (Photo  Play  Edition.) 

Harmony  Wells  ,  studying  in  Vienna  to  be  a  great  vio 
linist,  suddenly  realizes  that  her  money  is  almost  gone.  She 
meets  a  young  ambitious  doctor  who  offers  her  chivalry  and 
sympathy,  and  together  with  world-worn  Dr.  Anna  and 
Jimmie,  the  waif,  they  share  their  love  and  slender  means. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,        NEW  YORK 


B.  M.  BOWER'S  NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  and  Dunlap's  list 

CHIP  OF  THE  FLYING  U.    Wherein  the  I  ove  affairs  of  Chip  and 

Delia  Whitman  are  charmingly  and  humorously  told. 
THE  HAPPY  FAMILY.     A  lively  and  amusing  story,  dealing  with 

the  adventures  of  eighteen  jovial,  big  hearted  Montana  cowboys. 
pER  PRAIRTE  KNIGHT.  Describing  a  gay  party  of  Easterners  j 

who  exchange  a  cottage  at  Newport  for  a  Montana  ranch-house. 
THE  RANGE  DWELLERS.  Spirited  action,  a  range  feud  be» 

two  families,  and  a  Romeo  and  Juliet  courtship  make  this  a  bright» 

jolly  story. 
THE  LURE  OF  THE  DIM  TRAILS.     A  vivid  portrayal  of  the 

experience  of  an  Eastern  author  among  the  cowboys.  i 

THE  LONESOME  TRAIL.     A  little  branch  of  sage  brush  and  tfce 

recollection  of  a  pair  of  large  brown  eyes  upset  "Weary"  David- 
eon's  plans. 
THE  LONG  SHADOW.     A  vigorous  Western  story,  sparkling  with 

the  free  outdoor  life  of  a  mountain  ranch.  It  is  a  fine  love  story. 
GOOD  INDIAN.  A  stirring  romance  of  life  on  an  Idaho  ranch,  > 
FLYING  U  RANCH.  Another  delightful  story  about  Chip  and 

his  pals. 
THE  FLYING  ITS  LAST  STAND.     An  amusing  account  of  Chip 

and  the  other  boys  opposing  a  party  of  school  teachers. 
fHE  UPHILL  CLIMB.     A   story  of  a  mountain  ranch  and  of  a 
~~  man's  hard  fight  on  the  uphill  road  to  manliness, 
THE  PHANTOM  HERD.     The  title  of  a  moving-picture  staged  in 
~  New  Mexico  by  the  "Flying  U  "  boys. 
THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  STOUX.     The  "  Flying  U  "  boys  stage 

a  fake  bank  robbery  for  film  purposes  which  precedes  a  real  one 

for  lust  of  gold. 
THE  GRINGOS.     A  story  of  love  and  adventure  on  a  ranch  in 

California. 
STARR  OF  THE  DESERT.     A  New  Mexico  ranch  story  of  my* 

tery  and  adventure. 

THE  LOOKOUT  MAN.     A  Northern  California  story  full  of  action^ 
excitement  and  love. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,        NEW  YORK 


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